Sprinkles (Take Two)
by This Coffee Tastes Like Crap
Summary: Third book to Giggles(s/11343261/1/Giggles)and sequel to Sparkles(s/11529999/1/Sparkles).Welcome to a better, revised version of the AU where Eren still doesn't know what the hell is going on, people keep appearing in Annie's house despite Reiner's evil warding spells, Armin tries to comprehend the concept of having feelings,and Marco is scarier than everyone thinks. (OFF HAIATUS!)
1. Human?

Eren got a strong sense of déjà vu as he walked through the steel doors.

Despite being "familiar" with Armin—as well as the added security measures given in the form of armed escorts—the brunette was nervous as hell. It had been three months since the incident, and things were bound to be different—he's been locked up in the place he feared most, after all…

 _Please…_ please _don't make me go to time out…_

But Eren couldn't deny that he thought that Armin deserved it, at least a little. He tried to _kill_ his sister, after all—though, technically it _was_ in self defense, and Mikasa had actually admitted to the crime…

…and because of that she was in the very same mental institution he was sitting in right this very moment, probably sitting there alone in a cell.

 _And it's my fault_ , he added grimly to himself.

No…it was partially hers as well— _she_ decided to kill Armin's grandfather, and then attack him in his own _home_ (well, technically it was _Marco's_ home, but he was welcomed there so it might have felt like his as well) so she was also just as responsible.

 _And she did it for me_ , he thought morosely, _therefore still making it_ my _fault_.

Before he could continue to run himself in circles, a booming voice cut through his thoughts.

"Bring him out."

The area they were meeting was vastly different from when they first met. Instead of the rather cozy looking cell, they were brought into a room strikingly similar to an interrogation room—one-way window included. It made him extremely uncomfortable, but he got a feeling that that may actually be the point as he settled down into one of two seats facing a table.

A loud slamming of another door knocked him out of his thoughts, and two more men dragged a familiar blonde bound in a straight jacket to the other seat.

"Here he is," a familiar voice boomed through an intercom, "You have ten minutes."

Eren stared at the blonde, taking in his appearance. "You look…better…"

Despite his healed injuries, Armin looked like shit. He had bags under his wide eyes, his skin was as white as paper, and an unsettling smile graced his exhausted face. His hair was disheveled and dirty, and his small, frail frame was shaking uncontrollably with what had to be barely controlled laughter.

"Really?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. "Or…are you just saying that because you've nothing else to say?"

Swallowing a bout of nausea and guilt, the brunette pressed on as he awkwardly shuffled his papers on the table. "I'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's alright with—"

"Cut the shit," the blonde interrupted, "you…you're here to ask why I almost killed your sister again, aren't you?"

There was a loud _rip_ and Eren noticed that he had mistakenly ripped one of his notes. "Shit…" he cursed, setting the paper down and forcing himself to take a deep breath. "I…I just wanted to ask about the entire incident in general, as well as your take on it."

"Your sister knows what happened, doesn't she?" Armin asked, his grin disappearing. "She confessed to everything—unless you're still desperately trying to prove her wrong and clear her name. Everyone knows what happened, so it's pointless."

"Mr. Arlert," Eren forced out through gritted teeth, "please remain professional."

The blonde studied him for a moment as something dangerous flickered in his tired, baby blue eyes. "You're an interesting person," he said, smiling again. "You're strong, yet you act like you're made of paper.

"Mr. Arlert—"

"But," the blonde continued, staring at him with those lifeless eyes and that unsettling smile. "That makes you a _weakness_."

Eren blinked at that statement. "A…what?"

The blonde laughed quietly at his confusion. "Those who are strong are weaknesses to others, because they draw strength from them. If they fall, then the weak fall as well. They do all they can for the strong in an effort to be strong, but it's all for nothing—I know that because _I'm_ weak and your sister destroyed _my_ only source of strength in my life because _she's_ weak."

 _Rip!_ There went another page. _Dammit…_

"You said you wanted my take on what happened?" Armin asked, tilting his head again as his eyes became more and more lifeless and unnerving. "You made your sister weak. You made her want to become strong, which became her undoing—she's a resident here now, correct?"

 _Rip!_ "You'd better watch your words, _Armin Arlert_ ," he growled, "one word from me and you'll be dragged back down to your little hell to suffer in silence."

Armin's grin and eyes widened at the threat, paying him no heed. "How does it make you feel, _Eren Yeager?_ " the blonde asked almost sweetly, "The fact that _you_ drove your _beloved_ sister to _madness_?"

 _Rip!_ "That was all _your_ doing," Eren growled, " _You_ tortured her."

"' _You know I love you…_ '" the blonde quoted, his smile widening as he batted his eyelashes in a hideous attempt at impersonating his sister. "' _He hurt_ my _Eren…_ '"

 _Riiip!_ How the hell did _he_ hear that conversation!? Did it have to do with him sneaking off to Mikasa's room? Or did he somehow overhear? Shaking his head, Eren took a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm himself down. _He's been trapped in hell for_ months _,_ he reminded himself, _Of_ course _he's regressed a little_ …

Even so, the brunette couldn't lie—any fondness he had for the blonde was rapidly vanishing with this conversation. It didn't matter how close he got to him, he'd still be messed up in the head—nothing can change that.

 _Have you ever stopped and wondered what made him that way?_

"You know," Armin said, pulling Eren back from his thoughts. "You guys always seemed so close…I wonder how close you even are to each other…"

"You're pushing your luck Mr. Arlert," The brunette growled. _What the hell happens to him down there_? He asked himself, _does him being alone do_ that _much damage?_

For some reason that didn't sound right.

The blonde laughed again. "You think I care? I'm going to be thrown back down to my cell once this is over, so I might as well have _fun_ while I'm free, right?"

"Mr. Arlert…"

"I know you're adopted," he continued, paying the brunette no heed. "So…if you were to be in a…say _romantic_ relationship—"

"Mr. Arlert—"

"—it wouldn't be incest," he finished, "so tell me—do you _want_ to be in a romantic relationship with her? I know she does—with the whole 'my Eren' and all—"

"We're done here," Eren interrupted tersely, reduced to physically restraining himself to not snap the blonde's neck right then and there.

The blonde suddenly stood and lurched forward, prompting the two bodyguards to grab him. "Be as strong as you want!" he shouted, struggling fruitlessly against the two men. "It doesn't _matter_ what anyone else says, _I_ didn't break her— _you_ did! 'I'm not _your_ Eren'—you _knew_ how possessive she was of you and you _tore_ her _apart_ with _just one SENTENCE_ more than _I_ ever could with _a_ _thousand_ _KNIVES_!"

" _SHUT THE FUCK UP!_ " Eren yelled, slamming his fists onto the table. " _You_ — _YOU_ don't know _SHIT!_ "

" _You're_ her _WEAKNESS_!" the blonde screamed back, voice rising with uncontrolled giggling. "It doesn't matter what _I've_ done— _you'll_ get her killed, don't you see?! It doesn't matter how strong you are, you'll _always_ — _ALWAYS_ —make the ones you love fall! _You're_ a _WEAKNESS_ Eren Yeager! _A_ **_WEAKNESS_** **!** Just like my…"

And just like that, the giggling stopped as the blonde became dead weight in the guard's arms. "My…my grandpa…he…he was mine…"

Armin's eyes became unfocused as the two guards hoisted him back upright. "I…I got him killed…" he whispered, "He…he did it for me…"

Eren stared down at him as he stared off into space. "I…I guess we're all weak, aren't we?" Armin asked, looking completely and utterly defeated—his eyes were dull and lifeless as he hung limp in the guard's arms, his head hanging low and lolling from side to side like that of a broken Marionette.

"I…I don't think it's that we're weak," Eren said slowly, "I think…it's that we're human."

There was a long silence between the two, and Eren saw the tears that welled up in Armin's eyes.

"Human…?" the blonde asked uncertainly, still gazing into nothing. "I'm…"

"Human," Eren affirmed, "You may not have been treated as one, but you still are one."

There was another pregnant pause, and suddenly the voice on the intercom ripped them both from their thoughts.

"Your time is up," the voice boomed, "Take him back to his cell."

With that, there was nothing Eren could do as the two guards dragged the shell-shocked blonde back into hell.

"Hello Allison."

The blonde woman jumped in fear at the figure sitting directly across from her. She didn't recall ever seeing him sit down—or seeing him ever before. He looked friendly enough—dark hair, kind eyes, and a face full of freckles lightly sprinkled across his face made him look the polar opposite of dangerous.

However, the eye-patch kind of killed the "innocent" look.

"Who the hell are you?" Allison demanded, "I think you have the wrong table."

"Oh, I know I have the right table," the man said, smiling kindly. "And who I am isn't important."

The woman glared at him. "What are you getting at? Do I need to call the authorities?"

"No, I wouldn't recommend it," the man replied, "Because who _you_ are _is_ important, Allison."

"H-how…how do you even know my name?" she demanded, "Who are you!?"

"Just a friend of a relative."

Her brain worked at a million miles per hour—her dad had just died, and her only other living relative was…

"My entire family's _dead_ ," she replied bluntly, "I don't _have_ any relatives! Just who the _fuck_ do you think you are!?"

"Just someone helping out a friend," the man replied, his kind smile still in place.

The woman was getting sick of this man's mind tricks. "I'll only ask one more time," she growled, "Who are you?!"

"I guess I'm not as good at being cryptic as my friend is," the man laughed, scratching his head.

"Whatever," the woman muttered, "Just answer the damn question!"

The man laughed again as he put out a hand for her to shake.

"I'm Marco Bodt," he said, "Nice to meet yo


	2. No

"That'll do it!" Reiner said happily, dusting off his hands with a stupid smile on his face.

Annie didn't even bother look up from her book. "Reiner what the hell are you doing?"

"Well after the whole ordeal with Armin, I decided that we should make the house safer!" he replied, plopping down next to her on the couch. "We already have an alarm system, so I figured the only thing that'll keep that creeper out would be magic, so—"

At that, Annie finally lifted her eyes. "…Magic?" she asked incredulously, "Really?"

Reiner nodded his head vigorously. "I put salt in all of the doorways, and bought some good luck charms from the thrift store in the mall," he explained proudly, "you know, the one by Bodt Books?"

She's heard of it, mostly because that's the only way to keep contact with Marco. Eren had suddenly become reluctant in driving her to his house, and she sure as hell wouldn't be caught _dead_ going home with _Jean_. Luckily she likes books and the Barnes  & Noble she used to go to had relocated outside of walking distance, making Freckle's bookstore her new favorite place.

 _Speaking of Marco_ , she thought, _I haven't seen him in a while…_

"I'm going to the bookstore," Annie said abruptly, standing and picking her keys up from the table.

"I'm coming with you," Reiner replied immediately, standing as well.

"No you're not," the blonde shot back, "and I swear if you follow me…"

She let the threat hang, making Reiner sit back down. "F-fine…" he muttered, "Just…be careful, alright?"

There was a pause as Annie studied his forlorn expression. It wasn't entirely his fault—he just has no idea what's going on and is trying to keep her safe. Bertoldt and Reiner have always been there for her, and a seemingly demonic murderer becoming interested in her must scare the living hell out of them.

It probably doesn't help that she keeps leaving the house either.

Annie exhaled loudly. "Get the keys. You're driving. Go get Bertl."

Reiner stared at her for a moment, and then the goofy smile was back. " _Hell yes_!" he shouted, vaulting over the couch and bounding into Bertoldt's room. "Bertie! Annie's taking us out on a date!"

"If you spread false bullshit then I'm leaving you both here," Annie deadpanned.

"Just kidding!" Reiner laughed, "But get some pants on! We're gonna go out for a bit!"

"Hello there!" Marco said happily as the three walked into the bookstore, sounding the little electronic chime at the front door.

"Hi Marco," she replied as Reiner and Bertoldt disappeared behind some shelves. "Got any recommendations?"

Understanding the phrase, Marco nodded. "Of course," he replied, "Matter of fact, we got a _whole shipment_ of things that just arrived. I can go get them for you or you can just pick for yourself—though I think you should just come and see what we have in stock."

Annie glanced at the shelf the two disappeared behind, hearing hushed chuckling. _A whole shipment?_ "I'll just pick one for myself," she decided.

"Well come right on in!" Marco replied, smile still in place—though she could have sworn she saw something flicker in his eyes for a split second.

The blonde followed the brunette into the backroom, where inventory was stacked neat(ish)ly in boxes, with a few piles sitting around them.

"Well?" Annie asked, "Any news on Armin?"

"Where the hell do I even _start_?" Marco asked exasperatedly, nodding to the woman who was sitting on the ground, reading one of the books that were sitting in one of the boxes. "Hey," he called to her, "Why don't you introduce yourself to your future niece-in-law?"

Annie's eyebrows furrowed. "…Niece-in-law?"

The older woman sighed and stood up with the help of one of the boxes. "I guess that _would_ be the case," she muttered, somehow looking even more naturally pissed off than Annie did. "You're the woman fornicating with my nephew, I assume?"

The younger blonde's jaw clenched. "Marco…" she murmured, "Who the hell is she?"

"An old, bitter woman," Marco replied, turning back to the older woman. "If I recall correctly, you let your nephew think that he was all alone in this world. You might as well have broken him yourself."

"I don't need _you_ to tell me that!" The woman hissed, clenching her fists. "For goodness sake I had to start from _scratch_! My career was _ruined_!"

"Are you _always_ this grumpy?" Marco asked suddenly, "Or do I need to intervene?"

The older woman half sighed, half growled. "I'm Amber Arlert," she muttered, not looking at Annie. "Armin Arlert's aunt…and last living relative."

Annie turned on Marco, eyes wide. "What the fuck!?" she demanded, "I-I thought his entire family was—"

"You thought wrong," Marco replied, "you see, his grandfather still loved his remaining _sane_ relative, so he got her off the radar. Not even Armin himself knows she's alive—and I get the feeling that was by design, was it not?"

Marco turned to Amber, who looked down. "Y…yes…" she whispered, "Armin…he thinks he killed me years ago. My father faked my death so I wouldn't live in fear of being hunted down by him."

"But…why would you get hunted down by him?"Annie asked, though she had a pretty good idea. "Was it just because you ignored his suffering?"

"I wish," Amber sighed, "but…you were right. It was my fault—I _had_ broken him. I-I don't know how, but something tells me that I most certainly didn't help."

The younger blonde's stomach turned as dread filled her. "…what did you do?"

Amber looked down, not meeting her eyes. "I…my second husband had left me that year," she explained, "and…and my sister had always been so happy with her 'one and only' that she knew ever since she could walk. I was furious, and I had actually wished them the worst luck possible—but her life just got better and better. Both of my husbands left me because I can't have a child, and yet Amelia gets a perfectly healthy baby right on her honeymoon? I grew more and more bitter until I rashly wished death upon them all…only for…for…"

Annie could only stare as a tear fell down Amber's cheek. "One day they were just… _killed_. I _know_ that it wasn't an accident—the driver fucking fled the scene right before impact! I-I was stuck caring for a child that I grew to despise and a dying father, and I…I _hated_ it. I couldn't work as much, and the child reminded me of how _perfect_ my damn sister was…let's just say that I understand why I can't bear any children."

"You were abusive," Marco stated bluntly, "Weren't you?"

"N-not in the way _you're_ thinking," Amber replied hastily, "But…I treated him in a way no parent ever should. He was perfect in every way, just like my sister…so I convinced him he wasn't. Every time he did something even slightly wrong, I…I just lost it. When he became convinced he was imperfect—broken, even—I began to believe it too. I just…I hated him so much because he was so good at _everything_ , but I gave him a fatal flaw—I made him weak, so he couldn't do _anything_. I locked away every ounce of his talent like that murderer locked away my sister's life in a coffin six feet underground."

"But then he couldn't take it anymore, is that right?" Annie asked, "He…snapped?"

Amber nodded forlornly. "Him lashing out at Daniel should have been the first clue that he was bursting at the seams. I…I was completely cruel and heartless by then. Right below the stairs there was a little closet that locks from the outside, one that he's been scared of ever since he was little and his dad played a Halloween prank that…didn't quite go as planned. I was so mad that I had quite literally shoved him in there and…locked him in there."

Annie and Marco gasped in unison. "You…you _what_?" Marco asked, "…what happened after that?"

The older blonde looked back down at the floor, eyes full of grief. "My father made a surprise visit from the senior home," she replied, "and he went to say hello to his grandson…only to have the door whittled down to splinters and blood everywhere—we found out later that he had weakened the wood with a box cutter he had in his pocket and then punched straight through the door. We heard some…some _giggling_ in the kitchen, and I went in to investigate…"

Suddenly Amber clutched her head, eyes wide. "N- _no!_ " She screamed, "D-don't hurt me! I-I'm _sorry_! D-don't put me in time out! I- _I'm SORRY!_ "

The two onlookers stared at each other.

 _Don't put me in time out_.

"Miss Arlert," Marco said, kneeling down to her and putting his hands on her shoulders. "It's okay, don't cry—he's not here. He won't hurt you here."

Annie stared as Amber wiped her eyes. "I-I need to leave," she said, "I-I can't do this—!"

"Now Miss Arlert," the brunette warned, "You made a promise, and so did I. You help us, and I'll help you. You said you wanted to try and atone for what you did, didn't you?"

There was a tense, silent moment, broken only by Amber's sniffling. "F-fine…" she whispered, "I…I'm sorry."

"It's okay!" Marco said happily, "Feel free to stay back here a little while longer. You can read a few books to ease your mind."

Amber nodded and Marco looked to her. "So…yeah."

"You found Armin's _last living relative_ and _that's_ what you say?" Annie demanded, "And—and what are going to _do_ with this information!?"

Marco scratched his head. "I have no idea," he admitted, "But it _is_ pretty important, wouldn't you say?"

The blonde rolled her eyes as she turned to leave, picking up a random horror novel from one of the stacks of books. "Is that all?"

Marco shook his head. "There's a _lot_ more, if—ooh, that's a good book!"

"Is it?" Annie asked, "I'll take it then. How much?"

"It's free," he replied, waving a dismissive hand. "You're a regular here, and we're friends. You can have it."

Annie felt her lips pull up into a smile. "Thanks," she said.

"No problem!" Marco replied, "Anyway, more news about Armin— I…I have a friend of mine that I made in prison. He's very well connected, and he owed me a few favors—still does, actually. He pays them by having a sister who's actually a patient at the Survey Corpse Mental Hospital, and he gets info on Armin through her. Apparently there are rumors of a 'Dr. Smith' acting… _weird_ around Armin."

 _Dr. Smith…_ It took her a minute, but she finally remembered. "W…what do you mean by _weird_?" Annie dared to ask. _He didn't_ look _bad…_ she thought.

 _Looks can be deceiving._

Marco sighed again. "Well, he treats him differently from the other patients. He visits him every day, and keeps calling him 'my son' and also refers to him as such even though everyone knows they're not related."

Annie's eyebrows furrowed. "What the hell?" she asked, "That makes no sense."

"That's not all," Marco said, "there were also rumors that despite the parental nonsense…he treat's Armin very… _differently_."

Dread threatened to consume Annie as she felt her fists clench. "H…how differently?"

The freckled brunette clenched his fists. "He would put him though these…psychological 'tests'—by what my friend's sister said, it seems like he's purposely trying to provoke him."

"How—why—?" she found it difficult to complete a full sentence.

"He'd talk about his grandfather a lot," Marco replied, "and would keep talking about 'the outside world'—how the weather was nice, how pretty the flowers were, the like."

Annie's eyebrows furrowed. "…what?"

"Think about it," he pressed, "constantly talking to a trapped person about the outside. What is that person going to want to do?"

It took her a moment, but it suddenly dawned on her. "Escape…" she whispered.

"Exactly," Marco confirmed, "It's a big no-no for psychiatrists for people in solitary confinement if they're not meant to be outside—and obviously the Mental Hospital doesn't want to let Armin escape a _third_ time…"

"Then why is he acting like an ass?!" the blonde demanded, "I-I mean, if he might try to break out—even if he never _does_ , that's just _cruel_!"

Marco nodded in agreement. "I wish I could give you more information," he apologized, "But that's all I have for now…"

Annie caught herself on a bookshelf, holding her head. It was a lot of information to take in—it turns out the woman Armin thought he killed and caused him to go crazy is still alive unbeknownst to Armin himself and Dr. Smith is being an asshole trying to provoke Armin instead of helping him?

"What the hell…" the blonde muttered, "I…I need coffee."

"Well I'll see you out," Marco said kindly, the two of them leaving the back room and to the register.

When they did, the brunette's face suddenly paled. "Shit."

The blonde's eyebrows rose up as she turned to him, surprised at his language. "What is it?"

Marco sighed and pointed to the door where three large men entered through, triggering the chime. One was bigger than the other two—bigger than Reiner even— and was armed with a baseball bat, one was about Reiner's size and had a gun stuffed in his pants, and the third was slightly smaller with a pocketknife sticking out of his front pocket. Annie rolled her eyes—they were even _dressed_ like the stereotypical thug, sagging pants and bandanas included.

"Well well, look who it is!" The largest one laughed, "It's little Sprinkles! Y'all remember him?"

Annie couldn't believe what was happening. "Marco…are these friends of yours?"

"No," Marco replied, his face darkening to a point that unsettled Annie. "They keep trying to kill me, and I keep trying to kill them."

She wasn't expecting that last part. "…oh."

"Who's the little lady, hmm?" The smallest one asked, running his eyes all over Annie and making her want to vomit. "Wanna share?"

Annie was about to comment when Marco suddenly pulled out a fork from nowhere. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But a friend of mine called dibs on her already, so I'm going to protect her. One move and it's going to be just like back at the cafeteria, _got it_?"

Everyone—Annie included—stepped back from Marco as he glared daggers at the three men, the room dropping several degrees.

"H-hey man…" the largest one said, "W-we're just—"

" _Out_."

To Annie's surprise the three high-tailed out of there as fast as possible, and she couldn't help but stare after them in shock.

"…wow."

"Just some idiots from prison," Marco huffed, putting his fork back in his pocket (he carries that thing around in his pocket?) and turning back to her with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that."

"No problem…Sprinkles."

Marco's face darkened again. "Call me that and I'll swear to all that is good and holy I will tell Reiner and Bertoldt about you and Armin hooking up right now."

Fear stabbed Annie in the chest at the brunette's almost demonic scowl. Would he really go _that_ far over a nickname? "F-fine, sorry…"

The brunette huffed again. "Good," he said, "Now I think Reiner and Bertoldt are making out by the shelves. Can you make them go away? They'll scare off customers."


	3. Free

"Erwin you can't be serious!"

Hanji watched as her boss nodded good naturedly, as if he was suggesting they go get a bite to eat instead of doing the unthinkable. "Hanji," he said, smiling as he shuffled through some papers. "You know good and well that a beast must be let out of its cage every once in a while, lest it breaks out and and its hunger consumes it."

The calmness in his voice drove her to back away from his desk. "Erwin…"

She had been monitoring the boy (she doesn't care if he's twenty two—he's too young for all of this) for months now, and he'd shown signs of _devolving_. They have to sedate him with shot guns from afar in order to care for him physically—if they don't, he'll lash out at them with such ferocity even the straight jacket couldn't contain. He bites and kicks, and somehow has hospitalized five men before they decided to just put him down like an animal.

It hadn't _always_ been like that, but Hanji had sensed the buildup before hand—his sarcasm had grown darker, his glares got sharper, and his empty threats fulfilled with resolve.

The first obvious clue was when she found his fondness for stuffed animals.

It was a simple experiment to see how he would react, and she learned he would give special attention to any and all sea animals—but seemed to keep manatees and orcas closest. She had gotten him a few of those, and he had grown attached to them like any young child would—it was actually pretty cute, in Hanji's opinion.

But then something changed.

Hanji had come into his cell to find every single stuffed animal torn to shreds. When she asked, why, she got no response. They had taken off his straight jacket for the experiment, so there was no doubt that he did it himself. She asked over and over again for _days_ why he had done it until she finally got a response.

 _Ghosts make wonderful companions, don't you think?_

He went back into the straight jacket after that.

It wasn't her idea, but Erwin demanded it. He was afraid of her getting hurt and to be honest, she _did_ feel threatened. Things went even further downhill until they had to resort to drastic measures—fail-safes and contingencies for situations that she thought were just her imagination running wild.

Either way, it proved that he was in no way whatsoever ready for what Erwin was suggesting.

"Erwin," she repeated seriously, "I don't know about this. He's grown increasingly hostile towards even _me_ , and he used to like me the most! I know that keeping him locked up is only making things worse, but he'll kill the first living thing he sees!"

Erwin grasped his chin, deep in thought. "He's feeling bloodthirsty."

Hanji actually rolled her eyes like good friend of hers. "No _shit_ Erwin! It's like he has a vendetta against all mankind! Whatever he's been through, he seems to have lost faith in _everything_!"

"Doctor Zoe."

The brunette jumped at the sound of her title. "Y-yes?"

Dr. Smith took a deep breath. "You're hereby taken off this project. Arlert will be in my hands personally."

Wait… _what_?

"Dr. Smith—that's—that's _insane_!" she almost screamed, "I—what—!?"

"Do I make myself clear?"

Hanji flinched at his commanding tone. "Y…yes sir."

Dr. Smith nodded. "You're dismissed. I'll take it here."

She felt his gaze on her back as she left, and shivered despite feeling warm.

"Well that was close!"

Armin groaned inwardly, not moving from his little corner of the cell. No matter what, he'd know that voice anywhere.

"I knew that that reporter was starting to writhe himself under your skin," the voice continued, smirking dangerously. "So I had to cut your time short—you used to hate reporters, didn't you?"

He didn't respond, merely huffed irritably.

"…you were so close…" Erwin murmured, kneeling down right behind where Armin sat and wrapping his arms around him. "My son, the perfect killer…but your feelings got in the way, didn't they?"

The blonde felt his eyebrow twitch. "I don't see how that's a bad thing," he muttered, leaning away from the doctor and refusing to make eye contact. "I still don't know why you're so obsessed with me—and why you insist on calling me your 'son'…"

"I've told you before," the doctor said, running a hand through Armin's hair. "You're special, you know that— _inhuman_. Don't forget that."

 _I don't think we're weak…I think we're human._

There was a sudden tug on the blonde's hair, making him wince slightly.

" _Stop that_!" Erwin suddenly shouted, "I—I see that look in your eyes! Don't listen to a damn word that fucking reporter says—you are _not_ human!"

"…why not?" Armin asked quietly, "Why am I not allowed to feel?"

Erwin let go of his hair, and Armin's head lolled forwards as he stared ahead, refusing to turn around and face him.

"Feelings get in the way," the doctor murmured, "You know this—you were happy before, yes? When you were merely killing for the sheer hell of it? Even when you were locked away, you were content to read until you waste away forever—but now that you've made 'friends' look at how unhappy you've become!"

As much as he hated to admit it, Armin found it difficult to find fault in his logic. When he was alone, he was happy—happy with or without blood on his hands.

It was difficult, but not impossible.

"You," he murmured, "are a pitiful man, aren't you?"

Suddenly he was yanked by his hair and forced to face Erwin, the older blonde's face twisted in rage.

"You…you know _nothing_ ," Erwin growled, "You…"

"This isn't about me being happy with murder," Armin continued, feeling a grin spread across his face. "It's about _you_ proving that _you_ could be happy alone, isn't it?"

"Shut up…" the doctor growled.

"You believe you're alone," the younger blonde pointed out, "No…you _want_ to be alone. You lost someone, didn't you? And that loss made you lose all faith in humanity—you're too afraid to get too close just for them to leave, aren't you?"

Dr. Smith didn't reply, only released Armin's hair. "…they all eventually leave," he murmured, "You of all people should know this…your parents are gone…"

Armin shook his head, ignoring the pain in his scalp. "I do," he said, "and I know how liberating it is to be alone."

"I knew you'd understand," Dr. Smith said, standing up with a smile. "All one needs is to be alone."

"Nope," Armin replied, "What _you_ need is to find a damn shoulder to cry on—yes, it was liberating to be alone, but you're still stuck with the memory of those you lost, right?"

There was a pause, and Armin heard Dr. Smith's retreating footsteps.

"You ignore them," Dr. Smith stated simply, "They'll fade away eventually."

"No they won't," the younger blonde insisted, "Because look at _me_ now—my feelings got in the way and now I am unhappy because I'm _alone_. But when I found my friends, I realized that while it may not be 'liberating' per se, it's…"

The footsteps stopped. "It's what?" Dr. Smith inquired sarcastically, "'If it's not 'liberating' then it's _restricting_ , is it not?"

"…no," Armin said, "It's… _comforting_. Having friends near you, always there for you…it's nice actually—even if you know that they're just going to vanish later on, you might as well enjoy it while it lasts."

There was another long pause, and the footsteps began to advance back towards him. "I see," Dr. Smith murmured, "You…you miss your friends dearly, don't you?"

Armin nodded—there was no use in lying. "They're my friends," he said boldly, finally turning around and making willing eye contact with the doctor. "And I _do_ care about them."

"So you do," Dr. Smith acknowledged, "So I'll just have to kill them."

A laugh tore its way from Armin's throat. "I don't think that's a very wise idea," he murmured, "Because you're aware of my affinity for miraculous escapes, aren't you?"

"What would it matter?" Erwin demanded, a sadistic smirk spreading across his lips. "You'll just end up killing them anyway!"

The blonde didn't realize he had dived for the man until he was already midair. One flicker of light later, a cut bled from the boy's arm.

"You didn't think I'd come _unarmed_ , did you?" Erwin demanded, cackling menacingly. "Your mind truly is in _tatters_ , isn't it? Don't you understand? You've killed _everyone_ you loved, and you'll end up killing _them_ —your ' _friends_ '—as well!"

The older blonde didn't realize Armin ripping through the hole his attack made until his injured arm was already free. He lifted his knife in defense, but it was too late now. Armin wasn't thinking—he was angry.

 _LET ME OUT._

He wasn't quite sure how he got a hold of the knife, but he found it rather convenient.

 _I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE ANYMORE._

When he was finished, he saw the door open.

 _I'M FREE._

A trail of blood followed him down the corridor, to where? He had no idea.

 _All that matters is that he's free._


	4. But a Prisoner

Hanji _knew_ that this was a bad idea.

"Shit shit shit shit shit _shit_!" she cursed as she raced down to Arlert's cell, "Where—how—!?"

"Dr. Smith said that he didn't want his visits recorded," the assistant explained as she ran with him, "so he demanded we cut the cameras off! Next thing we knew, _he_ was _gone_ and…!"

They made it to his cell, only for her to back out of it instantly with a shriek of terror. When she got a hold of herself, she peeked back in.

She shrieked again.

Erwin was lying flat on his stomach, his back torn to shreds as two more assistants tended to him. There was blood _everywhere_ —

She shrieked again.

Written on the wall in what could only be Erwin's blood was a message in what Hanji figured was German.

 _Das Tier wird frei!_

Erwin was the German speaker, but _Tier_ stood out to her the most.

 _Beast_.

The assistant behind her gasped at the wall. "' _The Beast is free_ …'"

Hanji turned to her, eyes wide. "What?! Is that the translation!?"

The assistant nodded. "I think…Dr. Smith isn't our highest priority."

She couldn't agree more, but a part of her was suspicious…

Right as she thought that, she shook her head. There was _no way_ Erwin would set him free like that! He of all people knew that this would have been the result!

 _He didn't want his visits recorded, so de demanded that we shut the cameras off._

How would he have gotten out of that straight jacket!? Despite how hard he tried, Arlert hadn't been able to break free of it—not even once. He'd come close a few times by chewing through it, but that would take months, and he'd always get caught before he can free himself…

 _Dr. Smith isn't our highest priority_.

She couldn't disagree more.

Mikasa sighed as she flopped down in her bed. She had gotten out of the support group that was held that day by feigning illness, so she was finally able to rela—

The woman sat up instantly, every bone in her body screaming at her to run.

 _Something is coming_.

Getting up slowly, Mikasa inched towards the far wall of her cell, eyes darting around. A part of her wondered if she was just being paranoid, but somehow she knew that her gut was right—it always was.

Suddenly her cell door slid open, making her jump.

"…what the…?" she murmured, glancing up and down the halls. Her neighbors were doing the same before a few stepped out cautiously, and another few just sprinted out, laughing all the way.

"We're free!" one of them yelled, "We're finally free!"

Mikasa's eyes sparkled. She can see Eren again—!

Her thoughts halted when the feeling came back tenfold. Something was _not_ right. Almost all of the patients had escaped by then, but fear kept her feet planted. Something was coming, but she just couldn't bring herself to move.

 _Fight!_

The blood finally returned to her legs, and she broke into a sprint—

" _Shinē_."

The ground suddenly rushed up at her as her legs gave in, terror hitting her like a truck.

 _That voice…it…it_ can't _be…_

" _Sie haben Angst zu suchen_ …" the voice cooed, "Why are you so afraid? Monsters aren't afraid of anything, right?"

Mikasa got up to her and slowly turned around, tears falling down her face. _No…_

There stood her worst nightmare, the straps of his straightjacket undone and bloody beyond belief. Blood was also all over his psychotic face and tousled blonde hair that hung over his eyes, producing a shadow that made the blue orbs glow like a beast hungry for prey.

"G…get away…" she whined helplessly as she tried to scoot away from him.

It was all in vain. A few strides later he stomped on her back, pinning her in place.

"This is rather pathetic," he pointed out, "You're physically stronger than me. If you want to kill me, than do so."

 _Die._

"Unless…" he said, kneeling down to her and whispering in her ear. "… _you_ want to die."

Mikasa couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but cry there as he stroked her hair with bloodied fingers. "Well?" he asked, "Which is it? Who do you want to die?"

 _Me_. "Y…you…" she whispered, "you… _demon_ …"

The blonde had the audacity to pout like a child. "That's not very nice," he said, suddenly taking her head and slamming it onto the hard floor, causing her to cry out. " _You_ turned me into this. I…I was doing fine before you destroyed me…you turned me back into a _monster_."

He then began to giggle as he traced a finger down her back. "Because of that, I don't want you to die just yet…so it looks like we _both_ have to suffer, for a little while longer, hmm?"

Despite the feather light touch, she screamed in agony as memories brutally assaulted her nerves. She couldn't help it—his very touch ripped away her sanity.

"Interesting…" he murmured as he continued to traces lines on her searing back, "you're so afraid of me that a mere touch will tear you to pieces…I'm not sure how to feel having that much power over you…"

Armin giggled lightheartedly as she screamed, wondering when someone was going to hear her cries—at this point she was begging for the sweet release of death to take her away from this beast tormenting her just for the _hell_ of it. A part of her kept screaming at her to get up, to fight, that she was stronger than her, but the rest of her remained frozen in terror as her imagination made his gentle touch feel like a knife carving up her body.

"No one's coming for you," he said, the lines he traced turning into little shapes. "Everyone is preoccupied with the other murders and serial killers running loose…"

"S-s-stop…please…" she choked, her body seizing up in pain and terror. "I—I'm…begging you…"

"Beg," he whispered, his hands quivering with what Mikasa guessed was barely restrained control. "Yes…beg…please beg…"

She screamed in agony as suddenly nails dug into her skin, tearing at her flesh. "N—no!" she cried out, trying and failing to push him away. "S-stop! Please—!"

 _Fight!_

Drawing strength from who-knows-where, she rolled over, making him fall over as well. However, before she could dash away Armin tackled her again, making her land on her now injured back with a shriek.

Her scream was cut off when hands suddenly gripped her throat and tightened mercilessly around her windpipe.

"I…I want to kill you so-so _badly_!" he giggled, his voice gaining volume. "I want your blood all over my hands! I-I want to see the light leave your eyes—the way I saw the light leave my grandfathers when _you_ —!"

And then everything stopped.

"When…when you…" his voice dropped to a bare whisper as his hands loosened ever so slightly, allowing only the smallest bit of air to spill into the woman's lungs. "You…you killed him…"

And then the hands left her neck altogether, causing Mikasa to frantically gulp air and force it into her lungs.

 _What is going on?_

Mikasa started when he stood suddenly, his tears disappearing. "We…we should get you out of here, shouldn't we?"

… _what_?

"…why?" Mikasa asked after a pause, still wary. "You just…"

"I'm kind of bursting at the seams if you haven't noticed," Armin stated emotionlessly, "And I…I'm not sure what I'm doing right now."

"Neither do I," Mikasa blurted out, then covered her mouth in horror. _What the hell is wrong with me?!_ She thought venomously, _He just said he was snapping and you make a stupid comment like_ that _!?_

Her heart froze when she heard him laugh weakly.

"I don't think _anyone_ does…" he murmured, "But…I'll try not to kill you again if I can help it. I'm sure it's starting to get annoying. Besides, killing you wouldn't do anything for avenging my opa. I'd have to kill Eren to make you feel the pain I have, and I don't want to kill him."

He then held out his hand for her to take, making her stare dumbly for a few seconds before accepting it. "…thanks…?"

The blonde said nothing as he began to walk away, forcing Mikasa to follow.

"Okay, let me be the first to say that this is a conspiracy that Dr. Smith is in on."

Connie's attempt at humor fell flat on the morose workers. Eren himself was boiling with rage—it didn't matter how hard he tried, he just could _not_ forgive him. This is the third time— _third_ _ **fucking**_ _time_ —that he put his hands on his sister, and he wasn't going to put up with his shit anymore! And they both went **_MISSING_**!? He didn't care about what Marco said, Armin was truly evil and he just doesn't deserve to live—he'll kill him with his _bare_ _hands_ if he had to!

"Eren."

The brunette jumped when Annie put a hand on his shoulder and just stared. He didn't know what she was trying to convey and he didn't care—most of this was _her_ fault anyway! If she had just called the police beforehand all those months ago none of this would have happened!

 _Calm down_ , a part of him said, _she probably didn't want any of this to happen_ …

Still not caring, he ripped his shoulder away and went to flip his desk only to have another hand firmly grasp his shoulder and spin him around.

"Kid," Levi said, "I know you're upset, but don't go messing up the office. Go take the day off—hell, feel free not to come in until next week. Just know that you're not the only one who's lost loved ones to him."

Eren furrowed his brows at that statement. "I…okay."

As he wandered to the door, he heard Levi say, "Leonhart, as much as you deserve a day off, I'm not too sure about having you away from your two bodyguards while that psycho's running around again, got it? You don't have to work, but I'd rather you be where there are a lot of witnesses."

"…okay."

The brunette didn't look back at the two as he stepped out of the office. He was definitely going to take Levi up on his offer to not come in next week, but he's also going to find that _demon_ and put him in his place.

He sat in his car for a while, staring at his hands. It would be preferable to go with some sort of weapon, but he wanted to kill him with his bare hands—and he wouldn't let him die easily, either. He'd hurt him like he hurt his sister, weapon or not—in the end, it makes no difference.

Either way, he's going home with an Arlert's blood on his hands.


	5. Together(akaSAILOR BITCH&TUXIDO DOUCHE)

_"_ _W…what the hell…?"_

 _Mikasa looked around, not recognizing her surroundings. Everything was black._

 _Suddenly a brilliant light shined from behind her, illuminating the white cell she was in._

 _"…_ _this_ must _be a dream," she murmured, turning around. However, as soon as she did that, she became completely blinded by the light and covered her eyes to no avail._

 _"_ _Hilfe…"_

 _Mikasa spun back towards the sound and saw a blond woman kneeling before her in the raven haired woman's shadow. When she stared up at her, bright, intelligent blue eyes watered up in fear._

 _"_ _Hilfe…Hilfe…"_

 _"_ _Beautiful, isn't she?"_

 _Once again Mikasa turned towards the light, only for it to be blocked by another, bigger silhouette of a man advancing towards her. "She's mine now," he continued, "and so are you."_

 _A hand suddenly reached to her neck, but she dodged and jumped away. "W—who are you!?"_

 _When she turned back, he was gone._

 _"_ _What the—?" she turned towards the woman, only to see the silhouette gripping the woman's neck._

 _"_ _Now now," he said, "don't want to be too hasty, now do we?"_

 _Now that he was facing the light, Mikasa recognized the man's features instantly. "…D-Dr. Smith!?"_

 _Dr. Smith smirked, his grip tightening on the poor woman's neck. "That's who you know me as, yes…but it's not who I am."_

 _"_ _W-what—?"Mikasa racked her brain for who this man could really be. For a split second she wondered if they could be the parents of—_

 _"_ IN THE NAME OF THE MOON I WILL PUNISH YOU!"

 _The Asian woman's thoughts screeched to a halt as a blonde girl clad in a—is that a_ fucking SAILOR MOON OUTFIT!? _—crashed through the cell window._

 _"_ MOON TIARA ACTION!"

 _Mikasa figured either she's dreaming or on crack as the girl ripped off her tiara (with a bit of difficulty) and chucked it at Dr. Smith, who was too shocked to dodge and took it straight to the face._

 _"_ _What the actual_ fuck!? _" Dr. Smith cursed as he rubbed his now bleeding nose._

 _When the girl giggled rather psychotically in response, she realized that that was no girl at all._

 _"_ ARMIN WHAT IN THE FUCKING HELL'S NAME ARE YOU DOING!? _" Mikasa screeched, confused beyond belief why the serial killer would don such an outfit._

 _"_ _I think you mispronounced '_ thank you _'," Armin muttered, walking over and picking up his tiara._

 _As if things couldn't get_ any **fucking** weirder _, something exploded to their left, causing the two of them to duck and shield themselves from the flying debris._

 _"_ _What_ more _could_ POSSIBLY _happen in this fever dream?" Mikasa demanded, glaring at the figure standing (or posing dramatically) in the settling smoke._

 _When the smoke cleared, she wanted to cry._

 _"_ _Nothing to fear!" Eren said, "Tuxedo Mask is here!"_

 _"_ _Oh my_ fucking goodness _Eren!" Armin snapped, "That's not even a line he says!"_

 _"_ _But it rhymes!" the brunette replied defensively, holding his cape in front of him as if it'll protect him from the killer's wrath. "And it's_ TUXEDO MASK _Sailor_ BITCH _!"_

 _When Mikasa saw the murderous glint in Armin's eyes she decided she should intervene._

 _"_ _Okay guys," she said, stepping between the two of them. "Er—"_

 _"_ TUXIDO MASK."

 _"_ _That's not even how its_ spelled _dumbass," Armin sassed, crossing his arms and cocking his hips to the side like a prissy white chick._

 _Some old hatred for the boy resurfaced, but she pushed it away—sassy bitchiness is no reason to kill one's family and she knows it. "Okay, Tux_ e _do Mask, Sailor Moo—"_

 _"_ _Mercury."_

 _Mikasa blinked._

 _"_ _I'm Sailor Mercury," Armin reiterated, readjusting his rather short skirt. "I know Sailor Moon's the one with Moon Tiara Action but I don't think a bubble blower is a very effective weapon."_

 _The Asian woman sighed. "Okay, Tuxedo Mask, Sailor_ Mercury _, thanks for saving me and that woman over—"_

 _She turned to her and Dr. Smith, only to find both of them gone._

 _"…_ _shit."_

 _"_ _I would have taken care of it if Tuxedo Douche over here didn't bust a fucking_ HOLE IN THE WALL! _" Armin seethed, glaring at Eren—er, "Tuxedo Mask"._

 _"_ _Okay Sailor Bitch," Tuxedo Mask shot back, "like chucking your little bitch tiara did anything!"_

 _"_ _My 'Little bitch tiara' broke his_ fucking NOSE _!"_

 _"_ GUYS! _" Mikasa shouted over the two of them. "Now's not the time! We need to save her!"_

 _Before she knew it, they were kissing._

 _She couldn't say anything. She couldn't do anything._

 _She was losing her ability to function properly._

 _It was Sailor Mercury who pulled away first. "W…what…?"_

 _"_ _Now, Sailor Mercury," Tuxedo Mask said, wrapping his arms around the girl—_ boy _—_ PERSON _. "Will you be my Sailor Venus?"_

 _"_ _Ew I hate Sailor Venus," Sailor Mercury muttered, snuggling into Tuxedo Mask's chest. "…but I'll be your Sailor Bitch."_

 _They went in for another kiss, and Mikasa cried._

"Mikasa," Armin murmured, lightly nudging the girl lying on the sleeping bag. He'd snatched ages ago. They had finally made it to his temporary haven—the parking garage in the destroyed area of Trost. It had taken a long time to get there, and conversation was normally the same between the two—

 _"_ _You're injured," Mikasa stated as they wandered in the middle of nowhere._

 _Armin shrugged, not even glancing at his bleeding arm. "I'm aware," he replied, looking straight ahead._

 _"…_ _it could get infected," she said, "and you could die."_

 _"_ _Good riddance," was his answer._

 _They said no more for a long while._

 _"…_ _you should really get that checked out," Mikasa stated as they entered an abandoned part of town._

 _Armin shrugged, not even glancing at his still bleeding arm. "I'm aware," he replied, looking straight ahead._

 _"…_ _I'm pretty sure it's infected," she said, "And you'll die."_

 _"_ _About time," was his answer._

 _They said no more for an even longer while._

He finally got his wound appropriately wrapped because apparently Mikasa is either an herbalist or a wizard, and now that they've been sitting ducks for three days he was itching to get back to his main place of refuge.

"Mikasa," he tried again, nudging her a little harder.

She suddenly bolted upright, terror filling her eyes. " _SAILOR BITCH NO!_ "

Armin blinked, not sure if he heard correctly. "…what?"

There was an awkward silence as Mikasa looked around, taking in her surrounding no doubt.

"…You're not wearing a Sailor Moon outfit," she said finally.

"…no, I'm not," he replied, "Anyway, I want to move out of here soon—I don't like being out in the open."

Mikasa's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "But we're _not_ out in the open," she said, "and besides, where would you want to go?"

"The one place people haven't suspected yet," he explained, standing up and stretching out his limbs. "Marco's house is a hell no go, Eren's bound to be suspected, and so that leaves only one left."

The woman's eyes widened in realization. "Annie fucking _hates_ me!" she cried out, "She'll turn us in the second she looks at me! A-and what about Reiner and Bertoldt? They're living with her now right?"

"I know," he replied, running a hand through his blonde hair. "We…just got to hope for the best. Maybe Annie could help explain…?"

"How the hell am I supposed to explain that!?" Annie demanded venomously, glaring at the freckled brunette. That'll get him killed!"

She had come back to the bookstore again (without Reiner and Bertoldt this time) and now she's starting to regret it—Marco's trying to convince her to tell the two most overprotective people on the planet that she aided and fucking _slept with_ a serial killer—and if that goes over well then to convince them to let him live in her home _again_ with _them there_ if the time comes.

 _Bullshit_ , She thought, _that's what that is._

"You don't have to do it _now_ ," Marco said in a voice Annie assumed was supposed to be reassuring, "But soon. I'm…having trouble with Armin's aunt. She's…well, things are going to happen, and he won't be able to come to me. You'll have to do it."

 _Why not just let him die?_

The moment that thought left her mind, she hated herself even more. How could she think such a horrible thought? Armin doesn't deserve this, she thought morosely he doesn't deserve any of it.

"…fine."

Marco sighed. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I…I know this is difficult for you. You love him, but…"

Annie tried to smile, but it ended as a grimace.

"I'm really sorry," he repeated, "Listen, when I need your assistance I'll call you, okay? You just need to try to explain as best as you can. Come to me if you need to, and Jean and I will help."

"…what about Eren?" she asked finally. "He…he cared about him at one point, right?"

The freckled brunette was silent for a moment. "He…he did," he replied cautiously, "But…after what happened with Mikasa he…"

"…hates him," Annie finished. "Understandable."

Even though it made sense, it still pissed Annie off. Eren was there for Armin when not even she or Marco could—he has to understand somewhat…

"…he kidnapped Mikasa."

Annie snapped out of his thoughts as she stared at Marco, eyes wide. "…what!?"

"Supposedly," he added, "It's…just what the authorities are thinking…since they're _both_ missing."

Now she couldn't even be pissed off at him anymore. Tearing up her back was one thing, but she was fine physically afterwards—she didn't even have a scar on her back to prove it. The second time he almost killed her was technically in self defense, but _this_ …

"He sought her out on purpose," she whispered, realization hitting her like a truck.

"So Eren's mad," Marco stated, "and has every right to be. I don't think anything will change his mind…"

A terrifying thought struck Annie.

"Will…will he turn us in?" she asked, "Would he do that…?"

"…I don't think so," the freckled brunette replied, "He'd be putting us in danger—besides, we don't have him anymore. There'd be no point."

"But if we—"

"Annie," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Everything's going to be alright. I promise."

The blonde girl turned away, eyes downcast. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

Marco laughed despite the situation. "You should get going. The novel on that box over there is pretty cool. I think you'd like it."

Said book was now lying on the carpet floor, and Annie refused to lift her eyes from it.

"Bullshit," she muttered, "That's what this is."

"I know," Marco agreed, "I know…"

 **So LolitaArmin129 and I traded prompts, (very badly placed Eremin and Sailor Moon AU XD) and...yeah.**

 **Go check out her story "Donald Trump Must Die" from my just as interesting writing prompt XD**


	6. A Story

" ** _ANNIE_**!"

The blonde girl jumped at the sound of her normally quiet roommate's scream. "W-what is it?" she demanded irritably, "You scared the living hell out of—"

"Marco said that you had something important to tell us," Bertoldt interrupted, towering over her with a darkened expression. "He said you'd know what that means."

The book in the girl's hands dropped with a _thud_ onto the ground. "I…shit."

Realizing he'd probably startled her, his gaze softened"…Annie," Bertoldt said, "You need to tell me what's going on. Marco sounded panicked and said that it was _fatally_ important."

"Whoa whoa _whoa_ ," Reiner said, emerging from his and Bertoldt's room. "What's going on?"

Annie took a deep breath. "I have a _lot_ of explaining to do."

"…so that's everything?" Reiner asked carefully, taking Annie's hand.

Annie refused to let any emotion show. "Yes," she replied, "I…I trusted him—we _all_ did. He just…I don't know. I just don't know."

Bertoldt stood and made his way to the kitchen.

"Bertl?" Reiner asked, "What are you doing?"

"Calling the police," he replied simply, picking up the home phone.

The blonde girl's heart shattered. "W-wait!" she cried out, jumping out of her seat and running towards him. "Please—please don't—"

"Bertl, let's talk this over," Reiner tried, standing up as well. "This—this is a _very_ complex situation—"

"She let a _monster_ into our house," Bertoldt almost growled, "It doesn't _deserve_ to _live_. I have a chance to put it down for good and I'm _not_ going to waste it."

"Bertoldt _wait_!" Annie shouted again, yanking the phone out of his grasp. "You don't _understand_! He—he has a traumatic past, and locking him up in that asylum didn't do _anything_ for him! He—he just wants to be _free_ —"

The stare Bertoldt gave her made it difficult to breathe.

"He's _killed_ people Annie," he snarled, "That's what _happens_ when he's _free_ —people die _horribly_! He needs to be put down like the _animal_ he is!"

"You haven't even _tried_ to _understand_ —"

"Why _should_ I try to understand!?" Bertoldt demanded, "He's a cold blooded _murderer_ who doesn't give a _damn_ about anyone! No…he's the _devil_ _himself_."

Annie couldn't move as Bertoldt took the phone from her. "If they don't kill him," he said, "Then _I_ will."

"Bertoldt," Reiner said cautiously, "Put the damn phone down."

"Why?!" Bertoldt asked, "Why are you on _its_ side!? He's killed _hundreds_ , and he's _kidnapped_ Mikasa—Armin Arlert doesn't deserve to live!"

There was a frightening tone of finality after he spoke his name. Bertoldt was actually serious.

"But what about Annie?" Reiner tried, "He hasn't laid a finger on _her_. Hell, he had promised that he'd—"

"Then why is he running around killing people _now_?" Bertoldt sneered, "Why does he keep on targeting Mikasa over and over again? Why—"

"Mikasa killed his only living relative!" Annie exploded, "He'd kill Amber if he had the chance—this was _her_ fault to begin with! He was abused and used, and—and—"

"And why does that translate into killing people?" the tall brunette asked, "Oh wait, I know—because he 'can't'!"

Suddenly it looked like Reiner understood. "Exactly," he said, "I mean, look at it this way—he's been feeling weak and useless, and then he…well, _snaps_ , and then he starts killing the people who make him feel weak—like a dog who bites back at a bad owner."

Bertoldt didn't look like he was buying it one bit. "And the random innocents he's killed? Why'd he—"

"Because he's suffering from the fucking _trauma_ from it all," Annie shot back, "He…he's seeing things, at least, he had for a time—I'm not sure if it's because his mind wanted to give the blame to something else or if there's something more, I don't know…"

 _Ghosts make wonderful companions, don't you think?_

"…he knows he's a bad person," she continued, her mind running at light speed. "He…he's used to being alone and having no one to account for his actions—but because I was nice to him that one day and then everyone else was later on, he started trying to repress his desire to kill. But when he was alone for too long, the desire to kill ended consuming him due to the need to escape. That would probably explain the innocents he keeps…killing."

The two men were silent, no doubt contemplating her answer.

"…fine," Bertoldt said, putting down the receiver. "I won't call the police. But he will _not_ stay here—not when there's still the slightest risk of him hurting you."

"He won't," Annie confirmed, "in fact, he _saved_ me, remember? If it wasn't for him, DD would have killed me for sure—but for some reason everyone keeps on forgetting that."

"I'm sorry Annie," the tall brunette apologized, "But I _can't_ budge on this. I _can't_ have him here—I _won't_."

Reiner scratched his head. "Well…it's _her_ house, isn't it?"

"Yes, it _is_ ," Annie replied, "but…I'll have to talk to Marco about it. But if push comes to shove then he _will_ stay here—even if _you_ have to _leave_."

Bertoldt opened his mouth to counter, but the doorbell interrupted his reply.

"Hi guys," Eren said, awkwardly scratching his head.

He couldn't believe that he didn't think this far ahead—he forgot that Annie had roommates, and now he has to think of a random reason as to why he was there in the first place. It's not like he could say "Oh, I'm here to talk to Annie about her psychopathic boyfriend's mental stability" and get away with it…

"Annie told us everything," Reiner said immediately, "about Armin."

 _…_ _or maybe I can_ , Eren thought. "Oh, that's good…"

"Come inside," the blonde brute said, opening the door and making way for him. "Annie's kind of having an emotional breakdown, so it'd be nice if you delivered some good news."

Never in his life had he heard the words "Annie" and "emotional breakdown" in the same sentence without a negative somewhere in between, and that worried him. "I-is there a reason _why_ she's freaking out?"

Reiner sighed, putting a hand to his face. "Well…it'd be best if you hear for yourself."

Steeling himself for the worst, Eren nodded and stepped inside. It looked a little different from before—it was more obvious that two more males had taken up residence here. It was a little messy, but Annie's touch must be what kept it from becoming a health hazard.

"You can sit on the couch," Reiner said after a long pause, "I'll get some coffee."

While he left, Bertoldt crossed his arms and towered over Eren, making him feel like a caged animal.

"So," he stated, for the first time looking intimidating. "How long have you known that a serial killer has been fucking around with my best friend?"

"Fucking _hell_ Bertoldt!" Reiner called from the kitchen, "Will you cut them a _little_ slack!?"

Annie said nothing, merely sat down on the recliner next to the couch and crossed her arms.

"Maybe I shouldn't be here," Eren said nervously, not liking Bertoldt's newfound aggressiveness.

"Bertoldt seriously," Reiner said, coming into the room with a tray of coffee and a frilly pink apron (what the actual fuck?). "Leave him the hell alone. You know the whole story—you _definitely_ can't get mad at _him_."

Finally Bertoldt backed down, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch and glaring into space.

"Sorry about him," Reiner said, "And say a fucking word about my apron and I'm going to break your jaw."

"O-okay," Eren said, raising his hands up. "I just…I was wondering if you think Armin was going to come here anytime soon for refuge."

There was another pregnant pause.

"…yes," Annie said finally, looking down. "I mean, Marco's house would be the first to be suspected, and Mikasa would be suspected at yours so—"

"You think he has Mikasa!?" Eren stood suddenly, rage swelling in his chest. "If he came then what would you do!? Turn them in!?"

"Yes," was Bertoldt's immediate response.

Eren's world stopped. "…what?"

"Armin's a deranged serial killer," Bertoldt muttered, "and Mikasa is also mentally unstable—"

" _Fuck you_!" Eren screamed, lunging at him only to be pulled back by huge arms.

"Bertoldt what the actual _fuck_!?" Annie demanded, standing up. "This is Eren's _sister_ we're talking about! _And_ Armin!"

"You'd let a _murderer_ keep a hostage in _your_ home!?" Bertoldt shot back, standing up as well and towering over Annie. "Be fucking _reasonable_! _Neither_ of them are worth sticking your neck out for! Besides, you fucking _hate_ Mikasa! You even admitted that you convinced Armin to torture her!"

" _WHAT_!?" Eren demanded, writhing from Reiner's grip and stomping up to Annie. "Is that fucking _true_!?"

" _No!_ " Annie replied just as loudly, "I said he can go out and…do whatever…and he purposefully sought her out to prove some kind of point."

Eren forced himself to take deep breaths. "This is fucking ridiculous," he muttered, running a hand through his messy brunette hair. "I…I don't even _know_ anymore…"

"Look," Reiner said, "Why can't you guys just fucking sit down and talk like civilized human beings about this? All this screaming isn't getting _anywhere_."

There was a collective sigh from the other three as they sat down again.

"Now," Reiner continued, "Eren, you wanted to know if we'd shield Armin from the authorities if he came to Annie?"

Eren nodded, kind of surprised that _Reiner_ of all people could be the voice of reason. "Yes…"

"And I said yes," Annie replied, "And if he has Mikasa then we'll tell you—but _only_ if you promise not to turn the blonde in unless it's a legitimate kidnapping."

"What makes you think that it wasn't?" Eren asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Annie shrugged. "Well…he's been trying hard not to kill any more people for a while now, and you've got to admit he's gotten close to you…right?"

Eren couldn't help but realize she was right—he _had_ pulled him from a few fits of insanity, so it was safe to say they could be…friends?

 _But why would he help Mikasa?_ He asked himself, _she killed his grandfather, and that pushed him pretty far, didn't it?_

"My thought is," Annie started, "that Armin knows that you love your sister, and might be bringing her to us so we can keep her safe."

It took him a second, but it finally dawned on him. "He's… _rescuing her_?!"

Annie shrugged. "It's a thought," she said, "If it _is_ hostile, then he probably wouldn't even come to us in the first place—shielding him is one thing, but helping him hurt someone for the hell of it is a whole other pile of shit I'm not getting into."

"Right," Eren agreed, putting his head in his hands. "Damn it…I was planning on being all angry and threatening you to not let him in, but…"

"But your mama instincts are kicking in?" Reiner asked with a laugh, "Either way, it's fine with me I guess— _but_ if he even _thinks_ of harming a hair on _anyone's_ head then I'm ripping him the bits. And I'm sorry Eren but the same goes for your sister."

Eren felt his temper flare only to wane again. It was only fair—Mikasa is technically a runaway as well, and so she'll need to abide by their rules.

"Reiner," Bertoldt spoke up, "you _can't_ be serious."

"I'm _dead_ serious," Reiner replied, "It's Annie's decision, and it's _her_ house. We promised to be there for her, remember?"

"And also tell her if she's doing something stupid," Bertoldt replied, "This is _completely_ —"

There was a sudden _flapping_ noise by the door, and the three of them turned to see a familiar blonde sticking their head through the doggie door.

"Oh hi guys…" she said weakly, "Looks like you _are_ home…"

"Who the _fuck_ —?" Eren started, but then remembered. " _Christa Lenz_? F-from the mental hospital?"

"So you _do_ remember me," she replied with a nod, "I'm…I'm actually Historia now…"

"What the hell are you doing?" Annie demanded, "You weren't trying to break in were you?"

"I…uh…the doorbell was broken…?"

"I just used it like, _five_ _minutes_ ago!" Eren retorted, "It's as good as new!"

"Um…" she felt her face flush. "I…I was looking for uh… _Reiner_! You said we'd go out today!"

"We did?" Reiner asked, confused.

 _Sometimes he's smart_ , Eren thought, _but sometimes he's so fucking stupid_ …

"One more try," Annie said, her voice getting a dangerous edge.

Historia sighed. "I…I was checking to see if you were home…there were no cars in the driveway…"

"Well yeah," Reiner replied, "We use our _garage_ —and Eren lives within semi-walking distance.

"…oh…" was all she said.

"So you _were_ going to break in," Annie said flatly.

"N-no!" Historia stammered, shaking her head frantically. "I was…checking for someone else…"

"Oh my—Historia, just _stop_ ," another voice said outside, "you're just digging a grave for yourself…"

Everyone froze. _Was that…?_

Historia pulled her head back and it was replaced by another blonde. "Hi!" Armin said cheerfully, sticking an arm in and waving. "I…I was hoping to ask for a favor?"

"You wanted to live here, didn't you?" Annie asked bluntly, "That depends—where's Mikasa?"

There was a knock on the door.

"That was her actually," Armin said, "Just let me get out and you can open the door and—"

He struggled a little, but he didn't budge. "U-um…give me a second…"

The four of them watched for an agonizing five minutes as Armin writhed the rest of his body through the doggie door, hissing, groaning, and occasionally squeaking the entire time.

When he finally slid through, he stood and stretched himself. "S-sorry about that," he apologized, "I usually go feet first because…that."

Historia put a foot through and Annie had had enough. "Get your feet out," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "Just let me open the damn door…"

"Annie…" Bertoldt said in a warning tone.

Annie said something in return as she opened the door, but Eren didn't hear what. Everything disappeared when a familiar woman with short, disheveled raven hair and tired, blue-grey eyes stood at the door. She was in some newer looking clothing, but she still looked disheveled and exhausted as she shifted from one foot to the other.

"Eren…" Mikasa whispered, her eyes wide and watery. "Eren…!"

Without thinking, Eren ran towards her (making Armin rollout of the way to avoid getting trampled) and embraced her tightly.

"You're safe…" he whispered, feeling hot tears fall down his cheeks as he smiled. "You're safe…"

"So are you…" she replied softly, pulling away. "But you should really thank Armin. It was his idea to come here…"

Eren turned on the boy still lying on the ground. "Yeah," he replied, "I mean, it's kind of my fault she was there in the first place, so I figured bringing her with me is the least I could do…"

The brunette was shocked beyond belief. "W-what?" he asked dumbly. "Y…you…?"

Armin's happy façade slowly melted away. "Look," he said quietly, "I…I've caused a lot of trouble for you—for _everyone_ —and I felt like I should at least do this last thing before I…before I…"

His eyes turned glassy as he stared off into space. "Sorry…" he whispered, "I…I kinda need a minute…"

"You know where the bathroom is…" Annie said blankly, eyes wide with confusion.

Armin nodded as he stood and hurried away, leaving the rest of them speechless.

"So…what the hell was that?" Reiner asked, "What was he talking about?"

Mikasa looked down at her feet, shifting from side to side. "I…I think I might know," she said carefully, "I mean, he sometimes mutters to himself, and he keeps on talking about how he just has to bring me to you so "it could finally end"…at first I thought it was just him being unstable but now I'm not sure…"

 _That's not good_ , Eren thought with a grimace. "And why is Christa—er, _Historia_ here?" he asked, looking over at the blonde who still stood outside.

"O-oh!" Historia replied, "T-that's a long story…"

"But an important one," Mikasa added.

 _Great_ , Eren thought, ANOTHER _story…what the hell is going on?_

"Well!" Reiner said, standing up and clapping loudly. "Looks like I'm making more coffee, 'cause it sounds like we're gonna _need_ it!"


	7. With a Twist

_"_ _Well shit," Armin cursed as he tugged Mikasa behind a clothes rack. "This is bad…_ really _bad…"_

 _"_ _What's going on?" Mikasa whispered as the blonde poked his head from behind the clothes. "I thought you said there's no way for people to notice us!"_

 _The woman watched as the blonde shook his head, eyes wide. "I wasn't expecting the secretary from the_ mental hospital _to be here! She'll recognize the two of us on sight!"_

 _Mikasa sighed. "You_ really _didn't plan for that? And you've been evading the police for_ how _long?"_

 _There was a lengthy pause. "I…I've had a few other things on my mind," Armin admitted, looking down. "B-but we just have to—"_

 _"_ _Armin is that you?"a voice asked from beyond the rack._

 _The serial killer almost screamed if not for Mikasa covering his hand and dragging him into the rack of clothes._

 _And then suddenly someone stepped_ into _the clothes rack._

 _Mikasa recognized her immediately this time—it was the nurse from the senior home and the secretary from the asylum. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a lopsided ponytail and strangely had a comforting smile on her face._

 _"_ _It's okay," she said, "I'm not going to hurt you guys. I…I'm kind of on the run myself."_

 _"_ _How do we know that?" Mikasa asked, ignoring Armin's muffled protests._

 _The secretary shrugged. "Just look it up on twitter or the news. It's all over social media—"_

 _Armin suddenly bit Mikasa's hand, making her cover her mouth with her free hand to stifle the squeal of pain._

 _"_ _We've been on the run for a few weeks now," he muttered, wiping his mouth. "Mikasa's phone was confiscated ages ago and I've never had one."_

 _"_ _O-oh…" the secretary said, "Well I'll fill you in later. You can come with me if you want—I have my car and a lot of cash if you need clothes."_

 _Mikasa and Armin glanced at each other. They_ did _desperately need clothes—Armin was wearing one of his button-ups and jeans, but Mikasa was stuck in a tiny tank top and some really,_ really _short running shorts due to her and Armin's massive size difference. He claimed the shorts were a billion years old, and they certainly_ felt _it._

 _"_ _Someone's after me," the secretary explained, "but I've been doing a pretty good job keeping off the radar. I can help you if you just trust me."_

 _"_ _Is that why you changed your name to Historia?" Mikasa questioned._

 _Historia flinched. "Where's you hear that name?" she asked harshly, "My_ real _name is Historia, but I changed it to Christa!"_

 _Mikasa blinked. "Wait…what?"_

 _"_ _How_ did _you know her real name?" Armin asked curiously, cocking his head to the side. "I knew she changed it and her last name is Reiss, but I didn't know her first name."_

 _The raven haired woman looked down in shame, the memory of one her biggest mistakes weighing down on her. "…your…your Grandfather told me, actually…"_

 _The curiosity in his blue eyes darkened into remembrance. "I see," was all he said._

 _There was a pregnant pause, and Historia spoke up again. "So…let's go shopping, shall we?"_

 _The two runaways glanced at each other again. It might be a trap, but…_

 _"_ _I can get food too," Historia offered._

 _Both of their stomachs growled._

 _"_ _Fine," Armin decided, rolling his eyes. "Mikasa?"_

 _"_ _Coming," she replied, and the three of them crawled of the clothes rack. Luckily there was hardly anyone around, and the few that were there were too absorbed into their phones to notice._

"So what's the business with you changing names?" Eren asked, still not quite understanding.

Historia looked down into her coffee. "Well…" she mused, "my…dad is trying to find me, and I don't want him to."

"Okay," Annie said, "We know there's a _lot_ more to the story than that."

"Well I don't know if I trust you enough to reveal the entire story," she huffed, turning her chin up a slight bit.

Annie shifted to stand (and possibly lunge at her) but Reiner pulled her down.

"Look," Eren said, "We admitted to shielding a known fugitive. It's only fair that you tell us."

"I don't see the logic in that," Historia argued, "I found _out_ you were hiding a fugitive. You can't extort blackmail out of me."

"But _I_ can," Armin said, returning from the bathroom. He looked his normal self, smiles and all—which of course was unnerving as hell in Eren's opinion.

"You don't scare me," Historia declared, looking him dead in the eye. "If you harm one hair on my head you're going back into that straight jacket—I'm sure Dr. Smi— _AAH!_ "

She didn't even get to finish the sentence when suddenly Armin's hand was at her throat.

"I have another idea," he said, still calm and collected as Historia gasped and flailed for breath that wasn't coming any time soon. "You tell me why my grandfather knew your real name along with everything else or I'll have to go back on my promise to stay _vegetarian_ —I'd have to dispose of the body _somehow_ you know."

Everyone else in the room became silent, and every hair on Eren's back stood on end. _Did…did he just threaten to kill her…and_ eat _the body?!_

"I…I'm not afraid of you…" she gasped.

"You forget," Armin said, his grip tightening. "You're completely _expendable_. You did your job. We were planning on letting you stay out of the goodness of our own hearts, but if you don't _behave_ I'll have to get my hands dirty—and no one wants that, do they?"

"Nope," Eren replied instantly.

Armin finally let go of Historia's throat, and she collapsed onto the floor heaving for air. "Do you understand the position you're in?" he asked, that damned smile still on his face.

"I…should be asking… _you_ that…" Historia whispered, grinning as well.

The serial killer looked down and saw the fork sticking out of his chest.

" _Really_?" He asked, gesturing to the fork. " _This_ is the best you could do? That's sad, really…"

He then yanked the pen out of his chest, and a small blossom of red spread from the wound. "You _could_ have killed me," he admitted, twirling the pen in his hands. "But _obviously_ you don't know any better. You probably haven't killed that many people, have you?"

"…'that many'?" Reiner asked hesitantly.

"I mean, you've had to have had _some_ experience," Armin continued, kneeling in front of Historia. "But a wound this shallow wouldn't do _anything_."

"You're right," she said, "by itself it'd do absolutely nothing. However, with _poison_ or something it'd do a bit more damage though, don't you think?"

Armin's face went blank, and then laughed. "Oh, that's _clever_!" he said, rubbing his chest. "What will it do? Is it a deadly virus? Will it burn my insides? Am I going to end up frothing at the mouth and choking on my own saliva?"

"The last one, actually," Historia replied, "It's just a simple suicide pill liquefied and slathered on a fork. I've done a _lot_ better."

Eren looked back between the two. Was this all for show or were they _actually_ having this conversation when Armin can die any second now?

"Oh, then you should have pulled out the good stuff then," Armin replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, "I just barf those things back up. If those worked then I would have died _years_ ago! I'm immune to a _lot_ of things actually—I've had to take a lot of meds when I was younger, and after a while they lost its affect."

"But if you were to _overdose_ —" Historia started.

"Been there, done that," Armin sighed, shrugging. "Trust me, I've tried _everything_. I got pretty close with some hydrochloric acid from the chemistry lab at school, but some kid walked in and called the ambulance and I was saved."

"Asshole," Historia sneered, "I'm gonna have to try harder with you… _unless_ …"

Eren sensed a dangerous shift in mood from the blonde girl. "…perhaps instead of killing each other we can—"

"Nope," Armin replied immediately, standing up. "I'm Annie's, and if she even feels the smallest headache I'm shoving this pen up your ass."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Historia said, huffing hoarsely. "But _fine_."

Eren almost spit out his coffee, and even Armin looked perturbed by the way his smile turned into a grimace and his eye widened in confusion. "Um…glad we're on the same page…?—so about your name change and my late Grandfather…"

Historia sighed, dragging herself back onto the couch. "Well I honestly don't know how your Grandfather knows my name," she admitted, rubbing her neck. "But my full name is Historia Reiss—Senator Reiss' illegitimate child. He wants me back for some reason, and I'm not too fond of going back into the arms of the man who abandoned me to a bunch of psychopaths—and by psychopaths I mean some of his political enemies."

"So _they_ fucked you up," Armin concluded, nodding. "I know the feeling."

Eren shivered. "And all the poison bullshit?"

"One of them was actually kind to me," Historia replied, shrugging. "And she taught me how to cook—both normal food _and_ drugs, both harmful and helpful. I killed everyone slowly, but of course I spared her—I just need to find her again…"

"So now we're looking for someone," Bertoldt muttered, "Is she gonna be staying here too?"

Eren flinched at Bertoldt's tone, but Historia didn't seem to care. "No," she replied, "and I'm not staying here either—I already _have_ someone I can stay with."

She then turned to Armin. "To be honest, I was going to let you stay there out of the goodness of my own heart," she mocked, batting her eyelashes. "Think about it—what have you done for me after everything I've done for you? Nothing—that makes you in my debt."

"Wrong again," Armin replied, crossing his arms. "I've known your last name was Reiss for a _long_ time. I just never cared to turn you in because I didn't feel like it."

Historia didn't physically flinch, but something flickered in her eyes. "Your bluffing," she stated.

"Then how do I know that you're living with Ymir right here in Trost?" Armin asked, smirking deviously. "How do I know that you guys occasionally head down to the destroyed part of town to sell drugs to the few desolate left with nothing to lose? How do I know that the woman you spared was Frie—"

"You son of a _bitch_!" Historia screamed, standing up and lunging at him. "Don't you lay a fucking _finger_ on Ymir, you hear me! She—she has to support herself somehow, you know it! And you fucking know where Frieda is I'll fucking—I'll fucking…I'll…"

She trailed off at Armin's grin.

"Checkmate," he said, plopping down between Eren and Bertoldt. "You now have given us enough information to not only blackmail you, but Ymir as well. I wasn't bluffing about knowing your last name though—if you're trying to hide from a wealthy family I'd avoid wearing a ring with their coat of arms on it if I were you."

Historia's hand flew to her other one, covering the expensive looking gold-ruby ring on her middle finger. "It was my mother's," she said defensively. "And I've gone _this_ long without people noticing."

"But you can easily put the thing on a necklace and hide it in your shirt," Armin pointed out, "So not only would it protect your identity, it'd protect the ring as well."

"What do _you_ know about protecting something you love?" the blonde girl bit back, "You killed your entire damned family."

 _Low blow_ , Eren thought as he saw something dark flicker in Armin's eyes. " _Almost_ all of them," he corrected, "Mikasa gets credit for my Grandfather."

Eren saw Mikasa flinch and look back down at her coffee.

"My point still stands," Historia insisted.

Armin shrugged. "I never said you weren't right on that account," he replied, "I just don't feel like being blamed for my Grandfather's death."

"About that…" Eren interrupted, eager to steer the conversation away from Historia. "The media…they kind of pinned it on you…"

There was a pause as Armin sighed and put his face in his hands. "Fucking _perfect_ ," he cursed, "Whatever. I probably wouldn't have had to _be_ there for them to blame me."

"Okay," Reiner said, probably trying to steer the conversation back to something a little less disturbing. "Now that we kinda have all this figured out, what will we do with it?"

"Well I want to know how Armin's grandfather knew Historia's name," Mikasa murmured, "I mean, _Armin_ didn't even know her first name…"

"I should be asking _you_ that," Historia replied, taking a sip of her coffee. "I never told him, not once—the only people who know who are alive are Frieda and Ymir."

"Well he had to find out _somehow_ ," Armin insisted, "Did he have any connections with your family at all?"

Historia shrugged helplessly. "Not that I would know of," she replied, "but I haven't kept track of who kisses my father's ass and who wants to kill him in years."

Armin thought for a moment. "Well then the only thing there could be would be your ring that you kept waving about while taking care of him. He probably just figured it out and accidentally told Mikasa."

For some reason, that didn't sit well with Eren. "But if your grandpa's anything like you I'm willing to bet that he's behind something," the brunette said, "Saying it was his aging mind is like saying you got caught after saving Annie because you're insane. There was a _reason_ , wasn't there?"

The blonde boy was quiet. "…you're right," he decided, "my Grandpa wouldn't do that…but then why?"

"The hell if I know," Eren replied, leaning back. "But I think this is enough bullshit to deal with for one day—I have work in the morning."

"Oh shit, you're right," Reiner agreed, standing up. "I didn't even notice how late it was! It's that daylight savings man…"

Eren glanced at the clock and noticed it read 11:30 pm. "Yeah, I need to get outta here…"

"I'll come by here tomorrow," Historia said, standing as well. "I'm sure Ymir wouldn't mind."

"Alright," Annie said standing. "Now out, both of you."

The brunette glanced at his sister, and he heard Annie groan. "Fine, you guys can stay a little while longer," she muttered, "But _I'm_ going to read in my room."

With that, she got up and left. A few more waves later Historia was gone as well. Reiner made an excuse to go to the bathroom and left, Armin quietly made his way to Annie's room, and Bertoldt stalked into his and Reiner's room, and thus leaving him alone with Mikasa.

"So…" she said quietly, shifting her feet from side to side. "I'm…going to stay here?"

Eren nodded, patting the seat next to him. "I can stay a little while longer," he said, "so I believe we have some catching up to do."

At that, Mikasa smiled as she graciously took her seat beside her Eren.

"For the last time, no means _no_!"

Marco resisted the urge to punch Amber in the face as she stomped her foot like a four-year-old throwing a temper tantrum. "You have _no_ right to keep me from my grandson!" she shouted, "He's the only family I have left! I deserve to at _least_ tell him that I'm _sorry_!"

"You _had_ a chance to apologize," Marco growled, "How many times was he locked away in a mental institution? You could have visited him without fear of retribution from him, couldn't you?"

"Until he broke out again!" the blonde woman shot back, "Then he would have been out to get me!"

"And what makes this time different?"

The freckled brunette stared Amber contemplated his question. He already knew the answer.

"I…I just feel it," she whispered, "He's…he's changing, and it may be for the better."

"No thanks to _you_ ," Marco almost snarled, "How do you know that seeing you won't completely undo the progress he's made? Don't forget—it's _your_ fault that he's like this in the first place!"

Amber looked like she had been hit.

"It seems like you have," the freckled brunette sighed, attempting to calm himself down. "Look, I'm not going to let you see him—not _yet_ , anyway. As much as I think you two should stay as far from each other as possible, Annie thinks that you _may_ be able to help—"

"So let me see him!" Amber burst out, "What's so difficult about that!?"

"Seeing you will only make things worse," he said, "and forcing yourself on him is bound to have _devastating_ consequences. Knowing you, if he refuses you'll just see him anyway, which will just incur his wrath and jeopardize your life."

By now, Amber was trembling. "A-a-and if I _do_ stay away?" she asked tentatively.

"Look me in the eye and say that you will."

Amber looked away.

"That's what I thought," Marco muttered, "Now you stay away from Armin, or else it won't be _him_ you should be worried about."

The blonde's mouth open and closed like a fish, but no words came out.

"He needs more time," he continued, "and then _we'll_ tell him that you exist, and ask if he wants to see you. If he does, then fine. But if not…"

Marco watched detachedly as the blonde woman stepped back in fear. "…I'll kill you myself."

"Well Mrs. Smith," Dr. Smith said, "You're quite resilient, aren't you?"

The blonde woman sighed as she fidgeted with her straight jacket. "I still don't understand why you keep on calling me that," she murmured, "that's not my name."

"Yes it is," the doctor insisted, "you just don't remember, that's all…"

Dr. Smith then began to pace back and forth, making her feel _very_ uncomfortable. "It'll take time," he continued, a grin spreading across his face. "it's always like this…you just need to be reminded of how much you loved me…loved _us_."

"I still don't know what you're talking about," she repeated, throwing her head back and groaning. "My last name is _not_ Smith…"

"It will…" Dr. Smith murmured, "Just wait…I just need to find a way to make you remember…"

The blonde woman shook her head helplessly. She's been trapped down here for who knows how long, and this psycho keeps calling her "Maria Smith" instead of her actual name. It wasn't the straight jacked that bothered her (not really, anyway)—she kinda had it coming after stabbing someone in the neck in the cafeteria earlier. It's just the fact that _no one_ calls her by her real name (hence the reason why she stabbed someone) and look at her crazy when she insists otherwise!

"Can't you do a blood test?" she asked for the hundredth time, "I'm sure that would clear things up…"

The doctor shook his head and laughed. "Maria…" he murmured, "We've already done that—you wouldn't be here if you weren't the real one…"

The blonde woman rolled her eyes. "Okay, if I was truly Maria then why would I be insisting that I'm _not_?"

"Simple," Dr. Smith said, shrugging. "You simply don't remember. You're blocking it out, to be more specific."

"…are you suggesting that I have a multi-personality disorder?" the woman asked, quirking an eyebrow. "That…that makes no sense…"

However, it actually _did_ make sense—her family's always had had mental health issues, so she figured it would be a given that her genetics would be shit just like everyone else's. But multi-personality disorder…?

"I…don't believe that I have a history of that," she lied, "and besides, my legal name _isn't_ Maria—you can check my birth certificate."

"Oh I know," Dr. Smith replied, "However you _do_ have a personality named Maria—we have a child, you know…"

"Now I don't buy _that_ one bit," the woman stated bluntly, "I only have one child that I had with my _rightful_ husband!"

"As far as you know right _now_ ," the doctor reminded her, "you forget, none of the personalities remember or know things the others do. One of them could have had a child and you wouldn't know, even if you looked them in the face."

"S-so I have _two_ children?" the woman demanded, "Then where's the second one? _You're_ not taking care of them are you?! You're _insane_!"

The doctor laughed again, and there was a sinking feeling in her gut.

"You only have one child," he said, "and it's mine."

The woman sat there dumbly, her blue eyes widening in horror and confusion. "That…that's not possible," she whispered, "my…my husband…"

"We'll get into all the details later," Dr. Smith sighed, looking at his watch. "I have paper work to do. Until next time, Maria."

The name made the woman's temper flair. "I'd _never_ have a child with you!" she shouted as the doctor left the room. "My name is _not_ Maria Smith! I'd _never_ take your last name!

The door slammed shut with an air of finality, and the woman took a deep breath and screamed at the top of her lungs—

" _It's_ _AMELIA FUCKING_ _ **ARLERT**_!"


	8. Destroy

**Okay if you haven't noticed, I've been trying to make my chapters progressively longer and longer than I had before because I thought 800-1000 words were pathetic (at least, my SISTER did :/)**

 **BUT 4092 WORDS IS TOO DAMN LONG FOR ME OKAY!?**

 **I'm actually splitting chapter 8 in two, and I'll update chapter 9 right after this one.**

 **See, the problem with ME is that it's harder to fact check such a big document, especially one that has a lot of explanation in it, like this one did-It's still a healthy word count (Ch. 8 has 2,560 words Ch. 9 is 1,726 words) but I just can't help the fact that I'm just a concise writer-I mostly explain myself through dialogue, and pretty much the only time I do intense description is when someone is loosing their shit (like _*SPOILERS*_** **does in this one :P)**

 **I kinda just feel that if I strive for more than 3,000 words everything gets muddled up, and I have no idea what I'm doing-there have been MAJOR revisions, but it's mostly in _*SPOILERS*_** **fit of insanity and Amelia's POV, which has been moved to Chp. 9.**

 **I'LL TRY NOT TO REVISE ANYMORE, I PROMISE! THANKS FOR DEALING WITH ME X(**

 **Now, onwards towards the story!**

* * *

"Hey Marco!" Reiner called out as Annie and he walked into the bookstore. Annie had insisted that she would be safe by herself because of Marco, but of course she knew it was futile—especially since Bertoldt's not there to talk him out of it.

 _Though to be honest,_ she thought to herself, _I think now it'd be the other way around—Reiner wanting me to be free and Bertoldt being an overprotective little shit._

 _Who am I kidding…they're_ both _overprotective little shits._

 _…but they were_ her _little shits._

She was ripped from her thoughts when Marco stormed out of the back room, startling the two blondes with his deep scowl and furrowed eyebrows.

"We need to talk," Marco said bluntly, " _Now_."

Annie glanced at Reiner. "I…I guess I'll hang out out here," he muttered, sighing and turning away.

Before Annie could say anything to comfort her hulking blonde friend, the freckled brunette yanked on her arm and practically dragged her to the back room.

* * *

"Okay what's going on?" Annie demanded when they reached the room, rubbing her now sore shoulder.

Marco ran a hand through his hair. "Amber's going to make a horrible mistake and we need to fix it before killing her becomes the only option," he stated bluntly, bracing his hands on a nearby plastic table.

Annie's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "…we need to _what_!?" she demanded, turning on the freckled brunette. "What the actual _fuck_ did you just say!?"

"Look, it's a long story," Marco replied calmly, though his knuckles were turning white from gripping the edges of the table. "But long story short—Amber found out that Armin's mother is alive."

"She _WHAT_ —!?"

"Yes, she's alive," Marco interrupted, "yes, she's actually at the Survey Corps Mental Hospital, and yes, she's just as psychologically fucked up as Armin is."

Annie's head was reeling. "And Amber…what is she going to do!?"

"She's going to tell Armin," he replied, "and then she said she's going to tell Amelia _everything_ —Armin's issues, the people he killed, _you_ —and attempt to break her out."

"Dumb bitch…what the hell is she thinking?" Annie muttered, "So we're going to intercept her?"

"Of fucking course!" Marco snapped, "You really think that we're going to _let_ her do something so catastrophically _stupid_?! I'm not going to fucking let her undo almost a _year's worth_ of psychological progress on my best friend because she's a selfish _bitch_!"

Annie flinched, and Marco forced himself to take a deep breath. "S-sorry…" he muttered, averting his gaze. "I'm just…I'm a bit stressed right now. Armin…he's one of my best friends, and I just want him to have some fucking peace and quiet—and it seems like that's something only _you've_ been able to give him so far. I'm sorry I'm burdening all this on you, but Jean's not here and I can't deal with all of this alone—"

"Wait, what do you mean 'Jean's not here'?" Annie asked suddenly, "Where is he?"

Marco sighed. "He went to visit his parents up by the beach," he muttered, "something about a 'family emergency' that even _he_ didn't have a clue about. I couldn't force him to stay because that's just cruel, but I'm actually five seconds from just killing _everyone_ and that's not good."

The blonde girl decided that she did _not_ like stressed Marco. "Of course," Annie replied, "I understand—we need to fix this, but how?"

"I have her address," he said, "I was thinking that you hang about there for a little while tonight, and if she's not there I'll head up to Sina and go to the mental hospital and try to stop her from being a complete dumbass."

Annie nodded in agreement, trying to ignore Marco's unusually crass language. "Okay," she agreed, "But if she _is_ there, then—?"

"Then knock her the fuck out and call me," Marco replied darkly, "I'm sick and tired of her going around and fucking everything up, especially since the situation is a _lot_ more dangerous and complicated with Armin's mother being alive—she's literally going to _destroy_ Armin psychologically at this point…"

 _She kinda already did,_ Annie thought to herself.

"O…okay…" Annie murmured, pushing the thought aside. "So…that's the plan?"

Marco sighed and nodded. "It's the best _I_ can come up with," he admitted, "but here's the address. And thanks…"

Annie took the slip of paper and put it in her pocket. "No problem," she replied, "And…don't worry, okay? Armin is going to be fine."

The freckled brunette looked down at the table. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

* * *

"Surprise bitch," a sickeningly familiar voice taunted.

Armin jumped up from the couch as he turned around and saw someone he hoped to _never_ see again.

"'sup _runt_ ," D.D. smirked, his hand resting on the gun in his pants. He looked just like when they were in high school—football jersey and clean shaven face included.

"Son of a _bitch_!" Armin growled, reaching for a knife that was left on the table "Why can't you fucking stay _dead_!?"

D.D. only laughed and pulled out his gun. "I could say the same for _you_ ," he replied, "Why can't you just die?"

Feeling his temper boil over, Armin launched over the couch towards D.D., knife in hand—

"Armin what the actual _fuck_ are you doing?"

—and then crashed unceremoniously onto the ground, knife clattering out of his grip.

Rubbing his head in an attempt to get his bearings, Armin looked up and saw Bertoldt staring down at him.

"I…" the blonde trailed off as he looked back at his spot on the floor, only to realize that D.D. was gone. "…oh."

"Let me guess," Bertoldt sneered, "hallucination?"

While that _was_ the case, Armin couldn't help the flare of irritation at the other man's tone. "I guess so," he replied back, forcing his voice to stay level. "Sorry. I'll try not to let it happen again."

"Yeah, right," the tall brunette scoffed, passing the blonde and walking into the kitchen. "I bet that's just asking you to not be a fucking psychopath."

Armin rolled his eyes. "Okay," he said, standing up and dusting himself off. "I know you don't like me, and I promise I'll leave soon to take care of some _business_ —but really? I have no idea why you hate me so much since I haven't laid a finger on Annie—"

"You fucked her," Bertoldt interrupted bluntly, "You've laid a _hell_ of a lot more than one fucking finger on her."

It was then that Armin realized the source of the tension was.

"Oh yeah," the blonde replied innocently, following the tall brunette into the kitchen. "How could I forget? But now let _me_ guess—you wouldn't mind me staying here if it weren't for the fact that Annie loves m—"

Armin paused when he felt the knife poke at his throat.

* * *

"You shut your whore mouth," Bertoldt growled menacingly, towering over the small blonde as he pushed the knife further in and causing a trail of blood to pool on the blade.

Armin laughed despite the knife at his throat. "I knew it," the little shit smirked, "How long have you been hesitating to tell Annie how you felt? A few _years_ at _least_ , right? If you had acted on your feelings _earlier_ then she probably wouldn't have taken _me_ in and choose me over you, now would she?"

"You always said that you were afraid of death," Bertoldt grit out, "What would you do if you died _right_ _now_?"

"You think I'm _still_ afraid of death?" Armin asked calmly, infuriating the tall brunette even more. "Well you guessed wrong—just yesterday I admitted to trying to kill myself multiple times, didn't I?"

"Don't play that shit on me," Bertoldt cursed as the knife in his hand started to shake. "Annie told me _everything_ —how you're afraid to burn in hell like you _know_ you will."

"Ah, Annie…" Armin said dreamily, "always trying to get others to understand my plight—unfortunately, that has changed. My suicidal tendencies came _before_ I was sure I was going to hell—and after I figured it out I got scared, yeah. But even though hell's still pretty much a given I actually wouldn't _mind_ dying, seeing as my life isn't the best right now…"

Bertoldt pressed the knife even deeper, producing a shallow cut. "You…you son of a bitch…" he hissed, "You…you're not afraid of dying? You wouldn't mind if I slit your throat this _very second_?"

"Nope," was the blonde's flippant reply.

The knife continued to shake violently in the brunette's hand, and Armin had the audacity to lift his chin and expose his neck to the blade.

"I know what you're thinking," Armin whispered, "You want to kill me…you want my blood on your hands. Go ahead. Reiner and Annie are at work. No one's stopping you but yourself."

Despite the extreme desire to do as the blonde says, another, quieter voice in his head objected.

 _It's not enough_.

The tall brunette felt a bead of sweat trail down his chin as the thought of killing Armin made him feel delirious. He had to admit, it was very, _very_ tempting—all it took was one flick of his wrist, one slight movement, _one_ _second_ and this demon would be choking on his own blood, crying out for mercy while Bertoldt just stood over him and laughed at his suffering, his _begging_ for him to end his miserable, _pathetic_ life. He wanted— _needed_ —to _murder_ him, to _slice_ his throat open and watch it spill out on the white tile of the kitchen floor, the white flesh of his hands.

He wanted him to _suffer._

Armin may be insane now, but Bertoldt swore that _he'd_ be the one to drive the blonde _truly_ mad—the continuing agony would be unbearable to him, and the knowledge that it would go on and on and on and _on_ leaving him broken, bloody, and desolate beyond repair as he contemplated how the pain could only _increase_ in hell, and he slowly turns his very existence into a living nightmare.

"I know that look in your eye," Armin grinned as his eyes fluttered closed, "you're quite bloodthirsty, aren't you? You're imagining every possible way to end my life, I can tell."

He couldn't deny it—it was physically impossible. "Of course I am," Bertoldt murmured, feeling his left eye twitch. "I just…I want to…"

"Then do it," the blonde purred, opening his bright, challenging, _mocking_ blue eyes. " _Don't_ make it fast. Make me _suffer_. Just let go of that _last_ _bit_ of self control and _destroy_."

 _Destroy_.

Bertoldt slowly caressed Armin's neck with the blade, the cut still shallow—however it was enough for the blonde to gasp at the pain.

 _Destroy_.

Armin's eyes fluttered closed as his head lolled back, the ghost of a grin on his face.

 _It's not enough._

The knife clattered onto the floor as Bertoldt wrapped his hand around the blonde's neck, squeezing mercilessly.

 ** _It's not enough_** **.**

Armin's eyes bulged open when his air was cut off to his lungs, his grin widening.

 _It's…not right._

Here Armin was, talking about wanting to die and not minding if he died _right_ _now_ , by _Bertoldt's_ _hand_ , and he was about to grant his wish? It was too quick, too painless, too satisfying for the blonde. He deserved worse, a _lot_ worse. In fact, he deserved to be tortured like he tortured Mikasa—to be torn to pieces and forced to beg for help that will _never_ come, to be reduced to only a source of the brunette's amusement only to be tossed to the side once he became boring and thus no longer useful.

And only _then_ would Bertoldt grant him the sweet relief of death.

Bertoldt scowled as he released the blonde and picked up the discarded blade, walking over to the drawer with the towels and wiping it off—all the while feeling the blonde's azure gaze bore into him.

"…you didn't do it," Armin whispered.

"…it's not enough," Bertoldt answered just as quietly, "I…I want more than just your _blood_. I want your _pain_ , your _regrets_ …I want to _break_ you."

… _but I_ can't.

The tall brunette turned his head and saw Armin holding his new wound. "…you're so _cruel_ …" the blonde murmured with a grin, "Taunting me with death like that…and then claiming that it's not enough just having my blood on your hands."

He couldn't help it—Bertoldt laughed out loud. It was true, he stopped because it wouldn't be satisfying enough for him, he wanted _more_ —but that didn't take away from the fact that he still wanted to.

And that he can't do it even if it _would_ sate him.

"But I can see how much it's straining you," Armin continued, "you're patient, but you still feel the desire to kill me, don't you?"

 _Destroy_.

"…Annie cares about you," the tall brunette said quietly, "…so I can't touch you."

There was a pregnant pause as Bertoldt gripped the counter. His hands wouldn't stop shaking—a few drops of the blonde's blood had gotten onto him, and it was taking every ounce of his willpower to not to get even more on him, to further taint himself. Even so, he forced himself to take a deep breath—he couldn't stand the fact that Annie cared about that _thing_ , but even so Annie's happiness comes first.

Even if he truly wants to brutally _destroy_ her happiness.

"I have a proposition," Armin started suddenly, quietly. "If you're interested, that is."

"A deal with the devil?" Bertoldt snorted, "How fitting. Go ahead."

Armin smirked. "I have some… _unfinished_ _business_ ," he said, "and that includes keeping Annie safe from…a certain someone. Once that person is out of the way, then she'll be safe—and then you can do what you will to me."

Bertoldt thought for a moment. "But what about Annie?" he asked, "After you 'keep her safe' then she'd just want you to stay even _more_ , wouldn't she?"

"She won't even know," Armin replied, "I'm going to leave for good, and if you can find me then I'm sure _you_ can kill me."

 _Destroy._

The tall brunette saw past the blonde's honeyed words. "So the catch is that I'd have to find you myself _and_ you won't submit without a fight?"

"Is that too much work for you?" Armin asked innocently, cocking his head to the side. "I thought you wanted a struggle—you just said you weren't satisfied with just _letting_ you kill me, didn't you?"

Bertoldt's tainted hands tightened into fists. "Of course it's not," he seethed back, gritting his teeth. "There's no _fun_ in that."

It was Armin's turn to laugh, though it was cut short by a coughing fit. "Now you're starting to sound like _me_."

The brunette closed his eyes, his jaw becoming sore from how hard he was biting down on nothing. As much as he hated it, it was true—the thought of killing Armin brought him a sort of manic joy that wouldn't have existed before Armin shoved himself into everyone's life.

"It's your fault," he said flatly, " _you_ made me this way."

"Madness's a _bitch_ , isn't it?" Armin smirked, settling for a smirk as his voice began to give out.

 _Indeed it was_ …


	9. The Truth

_"_ _Mommy, will you take me to see the ocean some day?"_

 _Amelia looked down at the little boy sitting on her lap (with a book as per usual), big blue eyes filled with hope as he eagerly awaited her answer._

 _"_ _Of_ course _I will," she said, ruffling his soft, blonde hair. "Very soon, in fact!"_

 _"_ _Really?" Armin asked excitedly, making Amelia's heart melt. "Promise?"_

 _"_ _Pinky promise," Amelia replied with a soft smile._

 _She held his hand out and he did the same, crossing each other's pinkies and sealing the deal._

Amelia was jerked awake by the sound of the door opening.

"Good news Amelia!" a familiar voice said, sashaying into the room with a few guards. "You'll be allowed to be around other people again!"

"Hi Hanji…" the blonde woman yawned, shifting in her bonds.

Then she registered what she said.

"That's right!" Dr. Zoe laughed when she saw the look of realization on her face, "Just try to keep your temper in check please? I know you don't like being cramped in here with Doctor Eyebrows being all creepy, but I can't help you if you keep stabbing people!"

Amelia couldn't stop the smile from forming on her lips. She'd always liked Dr. Zoe—she always seemed to have a flair of happiness that was contagious, and (unlike the rest of the damned world) actually called her by her _name_.

"Hey…Hanji…" Amelia started as Hanji undid her bonds, "…why do you call me by 'Amelia' instead of 'Maria' like everyone else?"

There was a brief silence as the levity in the brunette woman vanished. "Well…that's a story for another time—we'll talk about it in therapy, yes?"

The blonde woman blinked. "…therapy?"

Dr. Zoe nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!" she replied, her good mood returning. "I was cleared to start therapy sessions to try to get past your Multi-Personality Disorder. At this rate you might be free from this prison!"

 _Prison_ …

"Up you go!" Dr. Zoe said, helping the blonde up after she loosed the jacket. "Now let's go get you some nice clothes, okay?"

A nice shower, some clean clothes, and several more escorts later, Amelia found herself walking in the outer courtyard of the hospital.

"Hanji…" she said nervously as she readjusted her ball cap, "why am I dressed like this?"

"We don't want a certain someone getting revenge for the stabbing incident, do we?" Dr. Zoe replied with a smile, "don't worry, I actually want to show you something."

The next thing Amelia knew they were standing in the parking garage and at the doctor's car.

"Okay," Amelia said doubtfully, "Where are you taking me?"

"We're taking you back home to Trost!" the brunette replied with a grin, "Now hop in!"

Red flags notwithstanding, Amelia took her place in the passenger seat. "Okay," she said firmly as the two of them got settled in. "Before you do _anything else_ , can you tell me what's _actually_ going on?"

"Erwin Smith is a fucking psychopath," Dr. Zoe said finally as they drove off, "I had to get you out of there before he did something _drastically_ stupid."

Amelia nodded in agreement. "So…the Multi-Personality Disorder—?"

"—you have," Hanji affirmed, "Let me explain—your true self is Amelia Arlert, as you keep claiming to be, so technically you're… _cured_ of it, for lack of a better word. _However_ , one of your other personalities was Maria Smith, a person who ran away with Erwin a long, _long_ time ago. It didn't last long, only a week until Amelia came back and you began to live life as normal."

The blonde was starting to get information overload. "O-okay…" she replied dumbly, "But…he said…"

Hanji sighed and shook her head. "Erwin claims that you had his child, and he's completely insane."

The entire world stopped.

"So…I _didn't_ have another man's child?"

"…no, you did _not_ ," the doctor replied, "you _did_ have… _relations_ with Dr. Smith when you were Maria—but your child was and _is_ still your husband's."

"…did he survive?" Amelia asked quietly, "That crash…I don't even know how long I've been in that damn institution, but I know it was a _long_ period of time—why didn't my husband or grandfather look for me!? Where's my son!? Why—?"

"Amelia," Hanji interrupted sternly, "you need to listen _very_ carefully, and promise you won't react _too_ strongly—what I'm about to tell you is very, _very_ important, but it's…not the best news."

She felt her blood run cold. "…I'll try," she decided, forcing her voice to stay level.

Hanji took a deep breath. "Your husband…didn't make it."

 _He didn't make it._

"N…no…" she whispered, her tears spilling over as she put her face in her hands. "T…that can't be true…"

Amelia dimly noticed that Hanji had pulled over to the side of the road. "T…that's not all," Hanji said hesitantly, "Your son—Armin…"

"Is he dead too?" the blonde spat, "Let me guess, my father and sister are dead too…"

"…Your father is gone," the brunette admitted, "But Armin and Amber are alive."

 _Alive._

"W-w-what!?" Amelia asked, her head snapping up to Hanji. "He's—she's— _where are they_!?"

"I…I don't know…" Hanji murmured, looking away. "Just…read this."

She handed Amelia an iPad, and she braced for the worst.

 _Teenage Football Star Slaughtered by Bullied Student._

 _Culprit of School Incident Targets Own Family._

 _String of Murders Connected to the Bullied Student?_

 _Mass Murderer Captured!_

 _The Inner Workings of a Killer._

 _Psychopath Escapes Asylum!_

 _D.D. Dead, Killer Behind School Incident Behind Bars._

 _The Killer Escapes Again!_

 _The Last of the Arlert Family Executed._

She couldn't read anymore—her hands were shaking so violently it was impossible to make out the words.

"Your son…isn't well," Hanji murmured, gingerly taking the iPad away from her. "He was also a victim of Erwin's… _Erwin-ness_ because, well…he knows he's his child. Amber is alive and well in hiding, so the media _did_ get that wrong. Perhaps…some of these things weren't his doing either."

Amelia whimpered as she clutched her head in her hands. "No…" she whispered, "Not my baby…"

 _This wouldn't have happened if I wasn't trapped in that damned institution_ , she thought venomously, _my baby…he wouldn't have turned out like this…_

 _Or maybe he would have,_ a small voice in the back of her head muttered, _your genetics are shit after all…_

She couldn't help it—she began to giggle quietly to herself.

"Amelia?" Hanji asked cautiously, "I…I know this is a lot of information, and I'm sorry—"

"Did you kill my father?" the blonde asked suddenly.

Hanji looked appalled. "O-of _course_ not! I—"

"Did you turn my son into a killer?"

"I…I had no control over that," she admitted, "I tried to help, I really did—"

"Then why are you apologizing?"

There was a silence, and then it looked like the doctor understood. "I see…" she murmured, "But Amelia—"

"How old is my son?" Amelia interrupted, "You said you 'tried to help'—and I'm not angry with _you_ —but that must mean that you've had face-to-face interaction with him, right?"

"…yes," Hanji affirmed, "I was his 'therapist' as well, doing research on his behavior—and he's twenty-two now—"

"Wait _twenty-two_!?" Amelia exclaimed incredulously, "How long was I in that fucking asylum!? The last time I saw Armin he was _twelve_! I remember because we had his eleventh birthday party _months_ ago—!"

"Amelia," Hanji interrupted hesitantly, "You were taken into the hospital ten years ago."

"…what?" Amelia asked, feeling her entire body go numb. "I…that could _not_ have been ten years…"

"It wasn't," the brunette replied, "after the accident, you were stuck in a coma for seven years. Your husband…wasn't so lucky."

"…seven years…?" Amelia repeated, "Why didn't they pull the plug on me? That…that doesn't make any sense…"

"Because you were at the Survey Corpse Mental hospital," Hanji sighed, "And Erwin…Erwin is a very, _very_ stubborn man."

It took her a moment, but it eventually dawned on her. "…he was hoping that I woke up as Maria," the blonde whispered, "not Amelia."

"That's what I'm betting too," Hanji agreed solemnly, "but you still were Amelia—as you're _supposed_ to be—when you finally woke up, so he decided to try to bring Maria back…but I've worked with Armin enough to know that you're even _more_ stubborn and wouldn't fall for it."

Amelia laughed weakly, thankful for the doctor's attempt to lightening her mood after the truckload of information. "Yeah…" she murmured, staring out the window. "…he's twenty-two?"

Hanji nodded. "He looks like you," she said, "and he still retains his personality—I'd always have to take weekly trips to the bookstore to keep him occupied when he was still at the hospital, and when he was in the mood we'd chat about what he read. He's just a victim of cruel circumstance and fate."

"No he's not," Amelia stated bluntly, "He's a victim of a certain asshole with giant caterpillars for eyebrows, as am I. And that asshole who decided to kill my husband and put me into a coma."

The brunette shrugged. "That too," she agreed, "but I know what you're thinking—you want to get your son back. I completely understand, but you also have to understand that you're now technically a wanted fugitive now."

Amelia furrowed her eyebrows. "Why? Did you kidnap me just now?"

There was a long, awkward silence.

"…I don't trust Dr. Smith," Hanji stated flatly, "And if you didn't switch back to Maria soon, he said he'd switch to more… _drastic_ measures—when I had asked what he meant, _that's_ when he told me that you two had a romantic relationship while you were 'Maria' and that 'his son' was conceived in 'love'."

"…he was going to… _rape_ me?!" the blonde asked, disgust pricking at her very being.

"…I don't know," Hanji replied, "But now you understand, right? I had to get you out of there as fast as possible before Erwin did something unforgivable."

"He turned my son mad," Amelia huffed, " _that's_ unforgivable."

Hanji looked like she wanted to say something else, but covered it up with a sigh. "You're right," she decided, "he already _has_ done something unforgivable. And we'll make sure he pays for it, I promise."

Amelia scowled. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

To her surprise, the brunette laughed.

"Trust me, Amelia," she replied, "I never do."


	10. Mother

" _So tell me about your family," Marco said conversationally, ignoring the sorry excuse for prison food that was sitting in front of him._

 _Armin was silent for a moment, raising an eyebrow at the freckled brunette. "My family's dead…" he murmured finally, looking down. "Well…everyone except my grandfather."_

"… _Well, I'd say 'I'm sorry to hear that'…" Marco replied softly, "But that's not what you want to hear, is it?"_

"… _no," the blonde replied, "It's not."_

 _Marco looked over the small blonde, who continued to pick at the colorless, odorless sludge referred to as "food". "Well…can you tell me about your grandfather?"_

 _There was a long pause, and Marco began to worry that he crossed a line. "Y-you don't have to if you don't want to—"_

" _He read to me."_

 _The freckled brunette blinked. "…huh?"_

" _He read to me every night," Armin elaborated, abandoning his so called "food" and stared up at the ceiling. "He actually was the one who taught me how to read. My parents would travel on occasion, and he'd be the one to take care of me when they did—we'd spend the day together, with me laying my head in his lap as he read aloud…"_

 _Armin looked back down, a smile ghosting his face. "I'd close my eyes and focus on his voice and just let my imagination roam free…I loved it. My mother actually picked up the habit, but it'd always be for a few hours—but one time my Opa and I just sat there all day and most of the night reading, until my mom found us both asleep in his rocking chair."_

 _Marco noted with fondness how the blonde's eyes brightened as he continued to talk more animatedly about his and his grandfather's antics._

" _She would always get mad at Opa for not taking me to bed, and he'd reply, 'Amelia, Amelia, you see how cute he looks? How can I dare disturb him?' and my mom would reply with 'Don't you dare use my son's cuteness as an excuse for your laziness! He needs rest to retain his cuteness!' and then promptly send us both to bed…"_

 _Marco nodded and listened as Armin continued, enjoying the spark of life that was now present in his eyes._

Marco had to resist the urge to floor the gas and run over the old lady crossing the street as his fingers tapped impatiently on the steering wheel.

He was currently on his way to the gas station to fill up his tank before he started the trek to Sina to stop Amber from being a complete dumbass. Annie hadn't made contact since several hours ago when they parted ways at the bookstore, so he has no way to know if either woman is there or in trouble and thus fueling his stress.

Once the old lady finally crossed the street and he pulled into the gas station, Marco was so high-strung that he was ready to kill the first thing that touches him.

Unfortunately, someone chose this time to bump into him.

Luckily, his self-control was still intact, so instead of smashing the woman's head into the concrete he offered her a hand. "Are you okay?" he asked politely, careful not to show any of his tension on his face, hiding it behind a kind smile.

"I-I am, thanks…" the woman replied with a light German accent, gratefully taking his hand and allowing him to help her up. When Marco did, he got a better look at her.

The woman looked eerily familiar—she had long blonde hair that fell down to her waist, stunningly bright blue eyes, a little, slightly upturned nose, and an air of tiredness surrounded her as she averted her gaze away from Marco.

"…sorry," she murmured, "Really, I—"

"Amelia!" another voice called, and a glasses-clad brunette woman walked out of the convenience store with a bag full of what looked like candy. "I swear you need to calm your Reese's fetish! This is expensive you know!"

"S-sorry Hanji…" the woman—Amelia, apparently—said quietly, blushing bashfully as she avoided the other woman—Hanji's—eyes. "I've been stressed, and—"

"Oh, don't worry about it!" Hanji replied with a smile as she walked over to the car parked at the pump right behind Marco's and dumped all the candy in the passenger seat. "The happier you are, the better!"

 _Reese's…Armin has an obsession with those…_ Marco murmured as he studied the woman more closely.

' _Amelia, Amelia, you see how cute he looks? How can I dare disturb him?'_

 _Amelia…_

"…holy _shit!_ " Marco cursed, jumping away from Amelia like she caught fire. "You—you're—!"

A very familiar and very threatening aura washed over the woman's bashful demeanor. "I'm _who_?" she asked, daring him to respond.

Hanji, who had also heard the outburst—along with the entire gas station probably—briskly walked over to Amelia's side.

"Well, sorry there's no time for chit-chat!" she said happily, grabbing Amelia by the arm. "We _really_ must go—!"

"I know where Armin is!" Marco blurted out, and covered his mouth immediately afterwards.

Luckily, it wasn't nearly as loud as before, and not a single head turned.

Amelia and Hanji, however, stopped dead in their tracks. "…you _what_?" the blonde woman demanded, her face twisting into what Marco could only describe as a snarl.

"I-I know where…where Armin is…" Marco repeated, forcing himself to stand tall as the woman yanked her arm from Hanji's grip and grabbed Marco by the collar—however she was only about Armin's height, so she had to stand on her tip-toes to get in his face.

He would have laughed if she didn't have Armin's bone-chilling glare.

"Where. Is. He." She growled as a shadow fell over her face, her eye bright like a feral animal's.

"Amelia," Hanji warned.

"I-I'm Marco Bodt," Marco stammered, "I-I had made friends with him when he was sent to Stoheiss Federal almost half a year back—he was a few cells away from me…"

"Prove it," Amelia snapped, "you said you were friends, implying that he trusts you—tell me something only someone close to him would know!"

Marco gulped. "U-um…he told me how his grandfather would read to him at night—"

"Not good enough," the blonde muttered.

"A-and he'd lay on his lap with his eyes closed!" Marco finished, "A-and that you'd always get mad when they stayed up late and his grandpa would always say 'but Amelia, don't you see how cute he looks?' and you'd yell at him for using Armin's cuteness as an excuse for laziness!"

Amelia froze, the almost demonic aura replaced by a soft, motherly one. "…that's…that's true…" she murmured, letting go of Marco's shirt and rolling back on the balls of her feet. "That…that happened almost every night…just like that…"

Hanji, who had been silent throughout the exchange, finally spoke up. "So," she started, "you're _the_ Marco Bodt?"

Marco tensed. "It depends what you mean by that," he said stiffly, narrowing his uncovered eye.

"Well it was all over the news way back when," Hanji replied, "how you took the fall for your best friend—I didn't know they let you out on parole…"

"Wait," Amelia said, turning on Hanji. "What did he—!?"

"It's a long story," the glasses-clad brunette interrupted nonchalantly, "what matters is that we might have found your son, yes?"

Marco watched as a million different feelings flickered across Amelia's eyes. "…yeah…" she replied finally, turning to the freckled brunette. "Where is my son?"

"Well," Marco stammered, shocked at how similar she actually did look to Armin—from the scariest of glares to the most innocent of faces, it was almost exactly the same. "It's a long story, but she's staying at a friend's coworker's house…I-I can take you there, if you would like."

"We'll follow you," Hanji agreed, and then turned to Amelia saying, "I believe we should tell Amber about this new development too, yes?"

Marco's face darkened at the name. " _No_ ," he stated resolutely, "I'm not letting her anywhere near Armin."

A panicked expression flashed across Hanji's face, and Amelia's glare returned. "You know my sister too?" she asked, "Then you would know that she'd take good care of my son!"

Marco was about to retort, but then he saw Hanji's mounting panic. "Well…" he said, "I'm not sure if I want to risk it…and plus Armin really cares about my friend's coworker…"

The freckled brunette noted the relief on Hanji's face, and he laughed nervously. "Well, we need to keep in contact, do either of you have a phone?"

Hanji nodded, taking out her phone. "Contact is a must, yes—Amelia unfortunately doesn't have one, but you can have my number…just know I like to go slow in these types of relationships!"

When Marco comprehended what she said, his face turned beet red. "I—I'm not—!"

"I know, I know!" Hanji laughed, "I'm just messing with you! Now if you'll excuse us, we're going to hop into the car and follow you when you're ready!"

Marco nodded in agreement. "Alright, I'll meet you there…"

"What do you _mean_ you don't trust him?" Hanji asked incredulously, "I thought you said—"

"I know what I said," Amelia interrupted with a huff, glaring at the dashboard. "But when he said that he doesn't want him near my sister…why would he react like that? If he knew where Armin _and_ my sister lived, then why didn't he have Armin stay with her?"

Hanji gripped the steering wheel tightly, keeping her eyes on the road. "I…I have something I need to confess."

Amelia felt her blood run cold. "So…you _have_ been keeping something from me—I saw your face when he mentioned Amber, and every time I asked about her you laughed it off..."

"I…I'm sorry," Hanji replied, "I should have known you'd notice—but that's not the point. The point is…Marco's right. Amber _shouldn't_ be anywhere near your son."

"…what did she do?" the blonde woman asked, feeling the fear mounting on her chest and making it difficult to breathe. "Don't tell me she…"

"…she ultimately is the one responsible for making Armin snap in the first place," Hanji admitted, "I mean, think about it—Armin was sent to the mental hospital _after_ he became a…well, he had to have lost his mind well before—"

"My baby did _not_ lose his mind!" Amelia snapped, turning on the brunette. "He's _always_ been a brilliant boy—he's just…broken…that's all…"

She felt the tears well up in her eyes and rubbed them away furiously. "I-I'm sorry," she murmured, "I—"

"Trust me, Amelia," Hanji replied softly, "you have _every_ right in the world to feel this way—you're a mother after all—but it's going to be okay, alright? You'll be reunited with Armin soon—Marco proved that he knew him personally, didn't he?"

Amelia's glare turned into a pout. "…he did," she admitted, "but…it's just kind of hard to believe, you know? That we just suddenly bump into someone who knows my son personally…"

"…you think Erwin could be behind this," Hanji finished, sighing heavily as she pushed up her glasses. "While that's not a baseless accusation, I have a little faith in Freckles—he's a good kid. I mean, he went to jail because—"

Right as she said that, Hanji's phone vibrated on the armrest.

"Whoops! Can you get that?" the brunette asked, her playful demeanor returning. "Can't text and drive, you know!"

Amelia sighed and picked up the phone. "It's an address from Marco…."

"That might be where we're headed," Hanji surmised, "put that in the GPS would you?"

Doing as she was told, Amelia couldn't help but notice all of the cracks on the screen. "…you _really_ need to take better care you your phone…"

"I know," Hanji sighed dramatically, "I'm on the third one this year—Sonny got flushed down the toilet and Bean got ran over by Levi's car…"

"…you named your phones?"

Hanji looked at Amelia like _she_ was the crazy one (well she was, but that's beside the point).

"…you _don't_?" the brunette asked incredulously, "I go through a naming ritual for _all_ my electronic devices!"

Amelia merely sighed as Hanji went off on the various names of her iPod, iPad, all of her previous phones, and her car. While it _was_ pretty amusing, she was still stuck on Marco's adverse response to telling Amber her son's location.

 _I'm not letting her_ anywhere _near Armin._

 _Amber…_ Amelia thought morosely, _what have you done to my baby?_

"What the hell _happened_ in here!?"

Armin laughed at Reiner's voice crack as he cleaned up the smaller blonde's wounded neck. "I had a bit of a… _hallucination_ and long story short I fell on the knife…"'

The full story was that after Bertoldt "spared" him, Armin had a little bit of a mental breakdown, which ended up with him sitting there laughing/sobbing/choking hysterically before he heard Reiner's rather deafening voice crack as he returned from work, which is why the smaller blonde was now being mothered by the larger one.

 _Better him than Annie…_ he thought to himself, _she would have flipped her shit more than Reiner did…_

"Why didn't you call Mikasa for help?" Reiner demanded as he continued to fuss over Armin, "she would have helped! And so would have Bertoldt!"

 _He was the one who_ caused _it…_ Armin thought with a chuckle, only to wince at the pain in his throat.

"It's not funny!" Reiner chastised, "You could have bled to death, and Annie would have _murdered_ Bert and I! You need to stop acting like you're expendable you know…"

 _Annie cares about you…so I can't touch you._

"…I'm _not_ expendable?" Armin asked, genuinely confused. "I'm literally a mass murderer who came to you with a hostage—"

" _No_ ," Reiner interrupted sternly, "You're a mentally ill person seeking refuge while saving another person in the process…why _is_ that, by the way?"

The smaller blonde was taken aback by the sudden question. "…why is what?"

"Why…why did you save Mikasa?" Reiner asked again, finishing off the bandage on the smaller boy's neck. "I mean…you _hate_ her, right?"

Armin looked down as he contemplated his answer. "I…still kind of hate her," he admitted, "I mean…she took away the last good thing I had left—but…"

"But what?" a third voice asked, peeking her head into the kitchen. "Armin, what happened?!"

"It's nothing, Mikasa," he murmured, "I tripped and fell on a knife while you were napping the day away."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Mikasa demanded, shooing Reiner away. "It might need stitches. Let me handle it."

"You know how to do stitches on a person?" the bigger blonde asked dubiously, making way for the woman.

"She actually stitched me up while we were on the run," Armin answered cheerfully, "she pretty much saved my life with her medical skills."

Mikasa looked down as she rifled through the first aid kit, a blush forming on her cheeks. "Well…"

The two blondes stared at her in expectation.

"…I know embroidery," Mikasa admitted as she got out the needle and thread, "and I kinda translated it onto a person…"

Reiner burst into roaring laughter as Armin covered his neck. "Okay," he said resolutely, scooting away from her. "My arms, you can ' _embroider'_ them all you like, but there's no way in _hell_ that I'm just going to let you ' _embroider_ ' my neck and accidentally piercemy jugular vein and fucking _kill me_ …"

A flash of hurt flickered across Mikasa's eyes, then something else Armin couldn't name.

"So…" she murmured, "…you don't want to die?"

There was a pregnant pause as Armin comprehended her question.

On one hand, he was reunited with Annie, he made friends, and actually had a place to call home—but on the _other_ hand his entire family's dead, he's still in danger of mental breakdowns every now and again, and he wasn't sure how long he could take living like a fugitive and putting said friends in constant danger.

And then there was that deal he made with Bertoldt.

"…um…" Armin stammered, "I-I…"

Suddenly there were a few sharp knocks on the door, saving Armin from answering her question.

"Let me see who it is," Reiner said, standing up and making his way to the door. "You two head to the—"

Suddenly the lock _clicked_ and the door swung open, and a very confused Annie almost face planted on the floor as another petite blonde woman barged into the house.

"Where is he?" she demanded, "Where's my son!?"

"W-wait!" a familiar brunette with glasses cried out, "I said to _not_ let your motherly instincts get out of control!"

When the other blonde woman's eyes finally landed on Armin, her eyes widened as tears fell down her face. "My…my baby…"

Armin realized that it was physically impossible to breathe. Her eyes, her hair, her face…it was almost exactly like he remembered—because they were exactly like his.

"…Momma?"


	11. Pop Goes the Weasel (IMPORTANT AN)

**A'ight guys, I got a confession to make.**

 **I'm not really feeling the story anymore, so i'm thinking of discontinuing it. Motivation's kinda dead, and considering the fact that i sold my soul to college recently my stress has been through the roof :\**

 **HOWEVER.**

 **I'm not leaving entirely-I'm just going to work more on less plot-heavy stories like:**

 **"Armin Lieks Turtles" ( s/11519769/1/Armin-Lieks-Turtles) a fluffy AruKuri/ChristArmin/ArminxChrista drabble thingie**

 **and**

 **"Oneshots of the Rageful, Overprotective, and Deranged" ( s/11564437/1/One-Shots-of-the-Rageful-the-Overprotective-and-the-Deranged) a short-story collection of the Shinganshina Trio**

 **and MAYBE**

 **"The Sims 3" ( s/8468470/1/The-Sims-3) a random Super Smash Bros. and Sims 3 crossover where Link and Zelda play the Sims and Marth abuses his WooHoo privileges (for some reason I've started getting Reviews for this story and idk why since i haven't updated it in years...)**

 **(hears sirens in the distance) U-UH-Crap-*searches for a oneshot* AHA!**

"Pop Goes The Weasel"

" _ICE CREAM!_ "

The people that were sitting at the table stared at Sasha as she jumped the school fence and ran off campus.

"Isn't that against the rules?" Eren asked, casually taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Yep," Armin replied without looking up from his AP stats homework.

Mikasa didn't say anything as she read her book.

About ten minutes passed when Sasha came back to the lunch tables looking bitterly disappointed.

"Hey Sasha," Eren said, "why do you only go after the ice cream truck that plays 'pop goes the weasel'? There are other ones that come around here and you don't ditch school for _them_."

Sasha sighed as she sat back down on the bench. "It's my favorite one…"

Armin smirked. He knew why it was her favorite.

"What are you smiling about?" Eren demanded, clueless.

The bell rang, and Armin closed his book. "I finished just in time," he replied, even though that wasn't why he was smiling.

When Mikasa and Eren went to French, Armin tagged along with Sasha on her way to PE since his Anatomy class way right by the gym.

"So it wasn't him today?" Armin asked as they walked down the hallway.

See, the reason Sasha kept running after that specific ice cream truck is because she met a fairly handsome man at one, and she's been searching since. She trusted Armin with her crush because he was smart and he promised he wouldn't tell _anyone_ —not even Eren and Mikasa, which was big since they were practically inseparable.

The brunette nodded dejectedly. "Yeah…and I got detention for skipping…"

Armin winced. "Ouch," he muttered, "that sucks. Maybe you should memorize his schedule—you usually only have been successful in seeing him after school right?"

That _was_ true—she saw him a total of three times, and they always had been on her way home.

"I always take the same route home," she said, "and when I don't look for him he usually finds me…"

The blonde smiled. "And when you'd go a different route to search for him, he's nowhere to be seen?"

Sasha realized what he was getting at and gasped. "Did…did _he_ memorize my way home and _purposely_ drives by!?"

"That's always a possibility," Armin replied, "why don't you test it out today?"

"Yeah! I'll do that!" she said, getting excited. "Thanks Armin!"

"No problem," he replied, waving. "I'll see you later!"

"Bye!"

All Sasha could think about was going home.

She was normally observant while playing volleyball, but today her head was in the clouds, think about the mysterious ice cream truck driver. She still remembered when they first met that one day when he drove by for the first time.

 _Sasha was dead tired—she had just finished archery practice and her arms were sore, not to mention that it was somehow 90 degrees in_ December _. She was beginning to wonder if God had a bone to pick with her today or if she was just having a bout of bad luck._

 _She heard "Pop goes the weasel" and she immediately knew that the ice cream truck was about three or so blocks away._

 _Sprinting, she made it just in time for a little kid to pay for his ice cream and skip away happily._

 _"_ _Hi," she panted, "I'll have a fudge-cycle please…"_

 _"_ _Comin' right up!"_

 _She looked up and saw a boy who looked about her age with a buzz cut and beautiful hazel eyes. He had a cute, lopsided grin as he handed her her ice cream._

 _"_ _That'll be a dollar-fifty!" he said in an upbeat tone._

 _Sasha fished out her walled and pulled out a dollar, but realized she didn't have any change._

 _"_ _O-oh…I don't have two quarters…" she said sadly, "I thought…"_

 _"_ _No worries!" the boy said, taking out his own wallet. "I gotcha!"_

 _Sasha smiled. "I—I'll try to pay you back—"_

 _"_ _Nah, it's cool," the boy said, "besides, you're pretty cute, so I'm pretty much obligated to help you."_

 _The brunette blushed. "I—uh—thanks!"She bowed slightly, her face burning._

 _"_ _You're welcome!" He called back as she skipped off, feeling like she could fly._

" _SASHA!_ "

Suddenly a volleyball connected with her face in a very painful way, making her stumble backwards and fall onto her butt.

"Well sweet Mother Teresa on the hood of a Mercedes Benz!" Coach Shadis shouted, "Potato Girl you better pay better attention before you run laps for the rest of the period!"

Sasha rubbed her face, but smiled nonetheless.


	12. Home (SURPRISE I'M BACK!)

"...momma?"

Annie stood up and watched with wide eyes as the blonde woman rushed towards Armin, holding him in her arms with tears in both of their eyes.

"My boy" she sobbed, "My Beautiful Boy...I'm so sorry…"

"I...I'm sorry too…" Armin murmured, eyes wide as he hesitantly hugged her back. "...you're not a hallucination."

"No, I'm really real," Amelia assured him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek. "I'm _so_ sorry for just suddenly appearing out of…"

She trailed off as Annie followed her gaze to Armin's bandaged neck. "...who did this to you?"

Annie glared daggers at Reiner, who put his hands up in defense. "I came home and he claimed to have slipped and fell in the kitchen...on a knife."

 _That's so clearly bullshit_ , Annie thought with an eyeroll, but before she could comment Amelia turned to the glasses clad brunette with wide, panicked eyes.

"Don't worry," she said with a smile, "I'll get the first aid kit out of my car, so sit tight!"

When Glasses left, Mikasa decided to speak up. "So…" she started, "You're...Armin's mother?"

"Yes," Amelia replied immediately, suddenly releasing her son and squaring her shoulders. "You must be the one who got my son sent back into that hellhole of an asylum."

Annie felt Mikasa flinch at the accusation. "He...hurt my brother…"

"I don't give a damn about your brother," Amelia hissed, "Justified or not, I'm not going to brush off anyone hurting my son in my absence."

"Momma…" Armin warned, "I deserved it. I...I haven't exactly been the nicest person-"

"You've killed lots of people," his mother stated flatly, "that's no excuse to treat you so badly."

"...mom that's literally _every_ -"

"Listen to me," Amelia growled, turning back to her son with a strikingly familiar feral look in her eyes. "I don't care _who_ you've raped, murdered, or _whatever_. You're _my_ son and you deserve _better_!"

Annie already figured there was something off about her, but now it was just plain obvious. "First off, Armin hasn't _raped_ anyone," she stated, "Second, shouldn't you be just a _little_ concerned-?"

"And who the _fuck_ do you think you are!?" Amelia demanded, her voice gaining volume. "Don't you _dare_ act like you know my son better than me!"

 _I was the one who was_ here _for him all this time…_ Annie muttered under her breath.

"Mom," Armin said sternly, "I'd have been stuck in that asylum for _much_ longer if not for her, so _please_ -"

"It's going to be okay," Amelia interrupted, taking her son's hands in hers and holding them rather tightly. "I-I'll make sure you'll _never_ be hurt again, okay!?"

"Mom-"

"We'll go to the ocean like you wanted!" she insisted, "Just like I promised before-before-!"

"Before you died and I went crazy?"

The room went silent as Armin looked down at their hands, his hair covering his eyes. "I-I'm glad you're back," he murmured, "so don't misunderstand-since Oppa is gone, I've got no other family bloodwise. But…"

Armin turned to Annie and smiled sadly. "I've actually become quite close to these people, believe it or not."

"The same could be said for us," Reiner spoke up, "trust me, I did _not_ see that coming."

"I've put him through hell," Mikasa added, "and he _still_ chose to save me."

"But...but…" Amelia's eyes watered as she look to the ground. "You want to stay with them, don't you?"

"I'm sorry," Armin whispered with shaking hands. "I...I don't want to leave...not yet…"

Amelia looked at Annie, then Reiner and Mikasa. "What have they done for you?" she demanded, "What makes them want to stay-?"

"Here we are!" Hanji sang, sashaying into the room and ruining the the tension with Marco in tow. "Now let's see how bad this boo-boo is, okay?"

Amelia let go of her son's hand, but not before glancing at him once more. "Fine," she muttered, "be careful with him."

"Of course, of course," Hanji assured her, "It'll be fine, I promise!"

As the brunette went to work on Armin's wound, Amelia turned to Annie with a frighteningly familiar glare.

"You," she stated, "we need to talk."

* * *

" _Han...ji…?"_

 _The doctor removed her hands from the small blonde's face, grinning widely. "Ta-da!" she exclaimed happily, "A little library, just for you!"_

 _The blonde couldn't suppress his own smile. "But..._ how… _?"_

" _It took a_ lot _of groveling and late night work to pay for it," the brunette doctor admitted, "and it's been in the works for roughly two years."_

 _The blonde meandered towards one of the shelves, hands still bound. "There's...so many…"_

" _Donations can certainly go a_ looong _way!" the doctor explained, "And like I said, it took a_ lot _of convincing in order to get Dr. Smith to green light it."_

 _She then walked over to the blonde and took his hands. "Here, let me take these off so you can read properly!"_

 _However the blonde boy jumped slightly, yanking his hands back. "W-wait a second!"_

" _...what's wrong?" the doctor asked, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you want your hands free?"_

 _The blonde boy blushed a little, averting his eyes. "...aren't you worried that...I don't know...I'll hurt you?"_

" _Of course," the doctor replied bluntly, "but I still have a little faith in you, Armin."_

 _With that the doctor reached for the blonde's hands again, and this time he didn't resist as she set him free._

* * *

"Han...ji…?"

"Shh," the brunette doctor hushed as she continued to carefully stitch his throat, "you shouldn't really talk with this cut. I don't want to accidentally poke you in the jugular, do I?"

Armin closed his eyes as Hanji continued, laser focused on his neck. It was shallow enough for her to disinfect and stitch with her first-aid kit, but the downside was that she had no anesthesia for him to take. "Don't worry," she murmured, "I'm al...most...done...there!"

Hanji cut off the remaining string and began to bandage up the now sealing wound. "No talking for a few days," she commanded, "After that I'll check up on you."

Armin cocked his head to the side, mentally asking _you will?_

"I don't live too far from here so it wouldn't be a problem," Hanji explained, "I can come over with your mother anytime you like!"

The brunette doctor watched patiently as a myriad of emotions flickered across his face, until it settled on a tired smile. _Thank you_.

"Now," she said, helping him up and glancing at the remaining people in the room. Once Amelia is finished interrogating poor Annie, we can all catch up a bit!"

* * *

"I'm going to say right now that I've done nothing wrong," Annie declared as she was unceremoniously dragged into the kitchen.

"What makes you think I'll just believe that with no proof?" Amelia countered immediately, "Clearly you have some hold on my son-"

"I'm his girlfriend," Annie blurted, then winced. "...Kind of."

The older blonde's face morphed into confusion as she fell quiet,studying the younger one. The suspicion was still apparent in her eyes, but Annie couldn't miss the curiosity as well.

"...what do you mean 'kind of'?" Amelia questioned.

"Well...," Annie started uncertainly, "He...snuck into my house right as I got home while ago."

"And how long was 'a while ago'?" the older blonde asked, "A week?"

Annie thought for a moment, her eyes widening in realization. "...over six months ago."

Amelia's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's a long while," she murmured, "what, did you hold him-"

"Neither one of us were hostages," Annie grit out, "We were more like...roommates."

It was obvious that Amelia wasn't buying it. "'Room...mates'…?"

Realizing that they were getting absolutely nowhere, Annie crossed her arms. "Listen," she said, "Armin himself said he liked it here, didn't he?"

 _I've actually become quite close to these people, believe it or not._

Amelia averted her eyes, her face unreadable. "I don't get it," she muttered, " _How_? If anything I would have thought he'd at _least_ want to go back to Amber-"

Annie involuntarily flinched, causing Armin's mother to stop in her tracks. "...you _know_ ," she growled, taking a menacing step forward. "You know what's going on with my sister, _don't you_?"

The younger blonde felt the same, almost demonic aura she's sensed from Armin coming from the older blonde, removing any and all doubt that they were related. "Listen," she stated, "I'm not sure that's my story to tell-"

She trailed off when Amelia began to laugh quietly.

"You...you are so _selfish_ …" the older blonde stammered, her face split into a wide grin. "You...you already took my child...now you're going to keep me from my sister _to_ o!?"

 _Now you'll see what happens to those who touch_ my _Annie._

"You...must really love your family," Annie murmured quietly.

The aura seemed to dissipate a little. "...what…?"

Annie smiled slightly. "I guess I've got a _lot_ of explaining to do…"


	13. Again

"Ma, I swear to all that is good and holy dealing with a serial killer is easier than dealing with you!"

Okay, that's not entirely true, Jean thought to himself as his mother let out a hearty laugh. "Oh please Jean-bo," she replied with a smirk, "we both know that's not saying much-you said it yourself, Armin-"

"Not so loud," Jean hissed, looking around the hospital room morbidly. "I knew telling you about that would be a bad idea…"

His mother simply laughed again, making the two-toned brunette run a stressed hand through his hair. The reason he was here was because his mom had fallen down the stairs and dislocated her hip (not that you could tell by her demeanor) and had to rush there right away-serial killer be damned.

However, with that big mouth of his, he somehow let it slip that he knew Armin-and for some reason his mom didn't seem to have much of a problem with it.

"Oh, speaking of your friend," his mother said suddenly, "Your grandmother said she received some books from Abelard-and when I told her you knew Armin-!"

"Mom you can't be spreading that shi-that around!" Jean hissed, "Do you know how much trouble we'd be in!?"

"Oh calm down," she chastised, "It's not like I said his last name!"

"Well it's not like he has a very common name-!"

"As I was saying," his mother interrupted, "your grandmother sent Abelard's books here, hoping you'd give them to your friend the next time you see him."

Jean was about to retort when his brain finally caught onto what she was saying. "Wait a second," he stammered, "Abelard...you mean-!?"

"Yeah, his grandfather!" she affirmed happily, "Isn't it neat? Your grandmother wasn't quite sure why he wrote that note giving all his books to her, but it turned out alright, didn't it?"

The two-toned brunette furrowed his eyebrows. "Note? What note?"

"Well," his mother started, "apparently before he died, he wrote a note in the book he was reading that stated that he gives all the books he had to your grandmother-signature and all! The government decided that it was a valid addition to his original will and just gave them to her! It was the oddest thing…"

Did Armin tell him about me? Jean thought, letting out a sigh. If that's the case…

Before Jean could even think of a response, the doctor came in, staring down at a clipboard. "Mrs. Kirschtein, I have some great news for you!"

"I hope it's that I can get out of this bed," Jean's mother laughed, "I've been feeling restless for weeks!"

"You're still not even close to being healed," Jean chastised, "don't get so excited to hurt yourself again."

"Actually, we believe that she's pretty healed by now," the doctor replied, "As long as she takes it easy, she's actually free to leave today."

"Finally!" Jean's mother exclaimed, already moving to get out of bed. "Now I can be active again!"

"Ma, be careful!" the two-toned brunette shouted, holding her upright when she almost tripped and fell. "Like I said, don't be in a rush to get hurt again!"

"Sorry, Jean-bo," she apologized, "Just got a little excited…"

"I'll leave you to it then," the doctor said, turning and walking out the door.

The next thing Jean knew they were driving home, his mother humming a simple yet familiar tune.

"Hey, wait a second-you missed our exit!" Jean shouted as they continued down the freeway, "I knew letting you drive would be a bad idea-"

"I know where I'm going," Jean's mother stated matter-of-factly, "We're going down to Trost to drop those books off to your friend!"

"Ma-are you insane!?" Jean demanded, "Trost is like, two hours from here!"

"I can drive both ways if you're gonna be lazy about this," his mother said sternly, "but it's already been decided so quit complaining!"

"But Ma-!"

"No buts!" she snapped, "We're going and that's final!"

Realizing he had already lost, he took out his phone. "Fine," he muttered, dialing Marco's number.

This is gonna be a long two hours...

* * *

"Ah, back so soon?" Hanji asked cheerfully as Annie followed Amelia back into the living room.

"Why didn't you tell me about my sister abusing my son!?" Amelia roared, grabbing the doctor by the collar and yanking her down to her. "That sounds pretty fucking important!"

"Amelia, wait-" Annie tried, but the older blonde paid no heed.

"When I see her I'm going to kill her with my bare hands!" she hissed, "I don't care what she thinks of me-she has no right to treat my son this way!"

"Isn't she dead…?" Reiner asked, staring at Annie with a panicked expression.

"Not yet," Amelia hissed, "but when I get my hands on her, I'll...!"

She trailed off when she saw horror washed over Armin's face.

"Ah, Amelia…" Marco stammered, "He...wasn't supposed to know that…"

"What are you talking abou-?" The older blonde asked, only to be cut off by her son pushing her away.

"You're lying," he rasped, "there's no way-I-why can't people just stay dead!?"

Amelia seemed frozen as Armin clutched his head. "She's dead, she has to be, she has to!"

"Wha-Armin, what are you saying?" Amelia asked worriedly, "Your Auntie-"

"She-why-how-it's not fair!" he screamed, his voice hoarse. "I-I thought I killed her!"

That's...not my story to tell…

She turned towards Annie, eyes wide.

Before she could respond however, Armin let out a scream, falling to his knees with tears streaming down his face. "I-I'm sorry!" he wailed, hands gripping his hair and voice breaking. "I-I didn't mean it-I'm sorry-I'm so sorry-!"

"Armin, calm down!" Amelia exclaimed, alarm written all over her face as she tried to draw her son into an embrace.

Unfortunately, something snapped in Armin, making him shove her away. "Please-not again!" he wailed, "I'll be good I promise-don't put me in time out-!"

"Armin-Armin stop!" Annie shouted when his hands flew to his neck, rushing to restrain them with hers. "Armin, it's okay, I promise! She's dead, she's been dead, she's not going to hurt you anymore!"

The blonde boy blinked owlishly at her, lowering his hands. "She's...still dead…?"

"Of course," Annie murmured, drawing him close. "It's okay, I won't let anyone hurt you, okay?"

Amelia stared, mouth agape as Armin relaxed into her embrace. "...Thank…you…" he whispered, his voice finally giving out as he closed his eyes.

"...I think he fell asleep," Annie murmured, running a hand through his soft hair. "Marco?"

"I got it," Mikasa said suddenly, walking over and kneeling down next to her. "If...you don't mind…"

"I don't care at this point," the younger blonde muttered, standing back up as Mikasa scooped Armin into his arms and carried him to the guest room.

"I...I…" Amelia seemed at a loss for words.

"Listen," Annie stated, standing back up and dusting herself off. "It's great that you're back and all, but you haven't been there for him like the rest of us have."

Hanji placed a hand on the older blonde's back. "I'm sorry...but I'm afraid she's right," she murmured, "Armin...there's still a lot we don't know about, and we've been here…"

"I...I understand," Amelia whispered, looking down at the ground as tears began to fall down her face.

"I can't assume I know him anymore, can I?"

* * *

"G...gone...you say?"

"Yes," the assistant repeated, glancing at the doctor warily. "Dr. Zoe also turned in her letter of resignation as well. We believe that she may have taken her-"

"To where?" the doctor hissed, running a hand through his hair. "I-I need her, do you understand!? Maria-Maria needs me! Find her!"

The assistant flinched as the doctor swept everything off his desk, causing it to all crash to the ground. "NOW!" he bellowed, blue eyes looking terrifyingly unhinged.

Not wanting to stay there another moment longer, she bowed her head and did as she was told.

"Not my Maria…" he murmured, "My Maria...is perfect...she needs me…"

Dr. Smith chuckled to himself, gingerly picking up a now shattered picture frame from the floor. He ran a hand over the withered picture, smiling sadly.

"At least I still have my son to satisfy me…"


	14. Written

Armin was surprisingly light-in fact, Mikasa felt more like she was carrying a body pillow than an actual person. She also couldn't help but notice how relaxed his face was-he even lightly nuzzled into her as she carried him into the guest room.

Shaking the thoughts away, Mikasa gently laid him down on the bed. When she did Armin immediately rolled up into a ball, murmuring something in his sleep.

"...m'sry…" he mumbled, curling up even tighter to himself. "...I...m'sry…"

His eyelids began to twitch, and Mikasa realized he must be having a nightmare. _Man he falls asleep fast..._ she thought as she sat down on the chair beside the bed.

 _Monsters aren't afraid of anything, right?_

Barely registering the faint voices from the living room, Mikasa contemplated the blonde. Every time he tries to kill her she sees him as a demon, but looking at him now…

 _I feel like we're somewhat alike._

It almost hurt seeing him whimper in his sleep, with his eyebrows furrowed and lips set in a frown as he continued to fold in on himself. His hands traveled to his arms, and to Mikasa's dismay he began to slowly rake his nails across already scarred skin.

"Armin," the raven-haired girl murmured, worried but terrified at the same time. She wanted to help him, but she didn't want him lashing out at her either.

 _Have you ever stopped and wondered what made him that way?_

"Armin," Mikasa repeated louder, hesitantly reaching an arm out to the now weeping blonde. The voices in the living room seemed to have gotten louder, but she didn't bother attempting to discern who was yelling at whom-all she was focused on was the angry red streaks now appearing on Armin's skin.

 _Looks can be deceiving..._

She lightly laid a hand on his shoulder. "Armin," she echoed a third time, nudging him gently. The action caused the blonde still completely, his face relaxing once again.

The voices faded into nothing, and everything became quiet again.

The raven-haired girl's eyes travelled back to the blonde, studying his face. He looked several years younger than he actually was, what with the slightly messy bowl cut and the deep, baby blue eyes that stared back in confusion.

"You're awake," she stated, withdrawing her hand and sitting back down in her chair. "Good."

He sat up slowly, not taking his eyes off of her.

"The others are discussing your mother," Mikasa murmured, looking back down at her hands as a blush crept on her face.

Armin cocked his head to the side, wordlessly asking, " _Then why are_ you _here?"_

"I...left," Mikasa admitted, "because I wanted to hear it from _you_."

A low, hoarse chuckle made Mikasa raise an eyebrow. "What?"

Armin looked around, a hand straying to his neck. "Oh, you want something to write with?" Mikasa asked, standing up and reaching over to the nightstand and pulling a notepad and pencil out of the drawer. "Here."

The blonde nodded to her gratefully as he took both items and began to write, the room silent except for the scratching of graphite on paper. After a moment he finished, handing the pad back to Mikasa.

" _Look how the tables have turned,"_ his surprisingly neat handwriting read, " _Now_ you're _the one looking over me..."_

Mikasa shrugged at the comment, handing the notepad back. "True," she stated, "this _is_ pretty ironic…though last time I had it coming…"

Armin snorted, writing down something else and handing it back to her.

" _That's debatable,_ " was all it read.

 _Let's see who the real monster is._

"No," Mikasa stated resolutely, handing the pad back to him. "What I did...it was unforgivable. I know an apology will never be enough, but…I'm-"

The sound of the door suddenly opening startled both her and Armin, which resulted in the latter swiftly hiding under the covers.

"Mrs. Arlert," Mikasa greeted, turning her gaze to the older blonde.

"Miss Ackerman," Amelia greeted back, her voice surprisingly tender. "Is he still asleep?"

Mikasa glanced back at the now still blonde boy. "Yes," she replied without thinking, "He was restless a few minutes ago, but he's calmer now."

Amelia nodded as she made her way over to Armin and sat beside him. "...I'm sorry," she murmured, "that I couldn't protect you."

She gently drew the covers back and kissed him on the forehead, though Armin remained perfectly still. "I love you."

The brunette woman averted her eyes as Amelia pulled the covers back over her son. "As for you," she said suddenly, "I owe you an apology."

Mikasa looked back up at her, shocked. "For what?" she asked, "If anything, _I_ should apologize...after everything I've done…"

Amelia chuckled softly. "Your brother is here," she replied, "and convinced me that you weren't all bad."

"Eren's here?" Mikasa asked immediately, sitting up straighter. "Is he still here?"

"He's in the living room now," Amelia answered amusedly, "he told me everything."

"...everything?" she repeated with a wince.

"Yes," the older blonde affirmed, "you...killed my father because Armin hurt you, and yet Armin saved you from that mental hospital."

"Y...yeah…" Mikasa murmured, not knowing what to say. "I...wasn't expecting that."

Amelia hummed in response, standing back up. "I'm going to be staying with Hanji," she said, "Take care of my son, would you?"

Mikasa blinked, then smiled. "Of course," she replied, "I promise."

It looked like the blonde wanted to say something else, but decided against it as she nodded and left the room.

A few moments passed, and Armin peeked back up from behind the covers, staring at Mikasa.

"You...didn't want to talk to her?" Mikasa asked, thoroughly confused. "Even after all this time?"

The blonde boy averted his gaze, radiating guilt as he took the notepad and wrote in it. When he finished he handed the pad to Mikasa and hid back under the covers.

" _She doesn't know me anymore,"_ it read, his writing a bit messier than before. " _She can pretend all she wants, but it won't change the fact that I did horrible things to innocent people."_

"Armin…" she murmured, though she had no idea what to say to comfort the blonde. It wasn't like he was wrong-he's done a _lot_ of bad things without batting an eye, but now…

"Do you...regret it?" Mikasa asked slowly, eyes wide as saucers. "You said you...didn't have a conscience, right?"

He didn't reply, his body shaking under the covers.

Sighing, Mikasa got up from the chair and moved to sit beside Armin. "It's okay," she murmured as she put a hand on his back, "you don't have to act tough anymore."

There was another moment of silence, and then Armin reluctantly emerged from the covers.

"I'm not entirely sure what made you this way," Mikasa continued, "but I get the feeling that you're trying to prove a point-like you were treated like a monster, so you...became one?"

She said the last part as a question, not entirely sure how to put her thoughts into words as she handed the pad back to Armin.

He took it reluctantly as he groped around the bed for the pencil. When he finally found it he paused for a moment, considering his words. Mikasa kept quiet, deciding that it was best to let him think.

After a little while he began to write, his strokes slow and deliberate as Mikasa watched him fill up one page, two pages, three…

"What're you writing...?" she thought outloud, causing the gentle scritching of graphite on paper to cease momentarily. Armin shrugged in response, continuing his writing once more.

The brunette woman found herself studying the blonde's intense expression-his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, blue eyes focused on the paper and (to her amusement) his tongue slightly sticking out as his hand (his left, she belatedly realized) grazed across page after page until finally he set the pencil down and handed the pad to her with an averted gaze.

"You...wrote a lot…" Mikasa murmured, flipping through six pages of neat handwriting. "Why…?"

Her eyes widened at the first line of the first page.

" _Remember when I told I'd tell you my tragic backstory if you told me yours?"_

"That's right…" she replied, "is all this…?"

Armin nodded, motioning to the pad.

" _You don't have to tell me yours right this second,"_ it read, " _But I felt like this was the time to tell you mine."_

"I'll keep this in a safe place," she promised, "and I won't tell anyone either-not even Eren."

Armin shrugged, waving a dismissive hand.

"Do you...not mind if I told him?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

The blonde shook his head with a noncommittal shrug.

"...does it matter if I tell _anyone_?" she pressed, the magazine coming to mind. It probably wouldn't help matters in terms of him being a wanted fugitive, but at the same time it couldn't really hurt either.

Even so, Armin's wince told her enough. "Just Eren then," she decided, "...and the others?"

He nodded again, though it was more subconscious as he let out a yawn.

"You should rest," Mikasa said gently, coaxing the blonde to lay down with a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You've had one hell of a day…"

No sooner had she said that she felt Armin's breath deepen as he shifted to his side and pulled the covers closer to himself.

Suddenly the doorbell rang through the house, making the brunette jump as she glanced at the sleeping blonde. He didn't move a muscle, his breathing remaining calm and steady.

Deciding that it was probably nothing, Mikasa smiled as she quietly reclaimed her chair and flipped through the pages of the notebook.

* * *

"Well _this_ is a surprise," Annie muttered, opening the door. "I was pretty sure you died."

Marco almost wept in relief when he saw the figure standing before him. " _Jean!?_ " he asked incredulously, pushing past the stoic blonde to wrap his arms around his best friend's body. "Wha-you're _back_!?"

"Nice to see you too buddy," Jean replied with a smile, returning the gesture. "My mom's stubbornness brought us here, actually."

"I told you, Armin deserves his books!" a familiar voice put in sternly, "It was his grandfather's last wish!"

The freckled brunette froze, drawing himself back. "M...Mrs. Kirschtein…?"

"The one and only!" Mrs. Kirschtein replied heartily, "I know that Armin's supposed to be a secret and all, but you see the thing is that-"

She continued on, and Marco stared at Jean with wide eyes. " _We need to talk_ ," he said with a glare, making his best friend involuntarily flinch.

"Well, enough about my rambling," Mrs. Kirschtein decided, "Jean, come help me with Abelard's books!"

"Wait," Marco interrupted, "Who's-!?"

"I'll explain properly later," Jean promised, following his mother outside.

Marco followed, not accepting that as an answer. "Jean," he growled, "I've only _just_ got out on probation-I care about Armin and all, but you can't just be spreading-"

"It slipped out, okay!?" Jean insisted, "I'm sorry...besides, this is kind of important."

As much as Marco wanted to take Jean by the shoulders and shake him until he explained what's going on, he recognized the sincere look in his eyes. "Fine," he stated, following after the two-toned brunette. "This better be good…"

After about a few minutes of heavy lifting, there were five boxes of books littered around Annie's living room.

"Alright, I'll leave you to it!" Mrs. Kirschtein said, giving both men a peck on the forehead. "You be good now, okay boys?"

"Ma…" Jean whined, his face turning a deep red.

"We will Mrs. Kirschtein," Marco promised, waving as she walked out the door.

As soon as she drove off, the freckled brunette turned on Jean. " _Explain_ ," he stated, glaring daggers at his roommate.

He took a little too much satisfaction from Jean flinching away from him. "I accidentally said Armin's name _once_ ," he stammered, "and Ma kinda just figured the rest out…"

Marco rolled his eyes. "Unbelievable…" he muttered, putting his face in his hands. "At this rate the whole _world_ will know!"

"As much as I share the sentiment," Annie spoke up, reminding the freckled brunette of her presence, "I'm more curious about all these books you just moved into _my_ living room."

"Well...that's the important part," Jean answered uneasily, "...they belonged to Armin's grandfather."

Marco could have sworn his heart stopped. "... _What!?_ " he demanded, "How the _fuck_ -!?"

"He-he wrote a last minute note to my grandma giving them to her," the two-toned brunette rushed to explain, "my mom got a hold of them and...told me to give them to Armin to keep."

"...I…" Marco's head was reeling from the information. " _Why!?_ "

"Hell if I know!" Jean replied, "But we should give these to him, right?"

"No shit…" Marco cursed, "I'm just wondering _why_ …"

"Same here," the two-toned brunette grumbled, "I mean, my grandma lives in the same retirement home, but I didn't think they _knew_ each other…"

Marco glanced at Annie eyeing one of the books in the boxes. "Armin's asleep right now," Annie said, "might as well get you caught up on everything that just happened...again."

Jean furrowed his eyebrows. "'Again'?" he demanded, "What are you-"

"We _just_ had this conversation with someone else," Marco answered, "just...sit down."

The two-toned brunette heaved a sigh as he flopped down on the couch. "Let me guess," he muttered, "Yeager's here?"

"He's in the bathroom," Annie answered, "Reiner went out to go grocery shopping or something, and Bertholdt disappeared somewhere…"

"Great," Jean replied, plopping down on the couch. "Alright, lay it on me. What shit happened today?"

* * *

Bertolt steeled himself as he sat in his car in front of the Survey Corps Mental hospital. "You can do this," he thought to himself, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. "Just get in there and ask for Dr. Smith."

Even as he said that, fear kept him set in place.

On one hand, if he told Dr. Smith everything then Armin would be back where he belongs. He would've preferred his death, but he'll take anything at this point.

On the _other_ hand, however, Annie could easily be linked to housing not one, but _two_ known fugitives-that that can only end in her _own_ incarceration, and perhaps even Reiner's…

He let out a huff at his conflicting feelings, shifting as he pulled the piece of paper out of his pocket.

" _Let's make a deal - Dr. E. S."_

It didn't take a genius to figure out that it was Dr. Erwin Smith, but what had surprised him was why he left it at his _work_ of all places.

" _Some sketchy guy in a hoodie wanted me to give this to you," the short man stated, "I'm assuming this is a lead of some sort?"_

 _Bertolt furrowed his eyebrows as he opened the note and read those four, simple words._

" _Let's make a deal - Dr. E. S."_

" _...yeah…" the taller brunette murmured distractedly, "j-just a lead."_

 _Levi stared at him expectantly, and Bertolt belatedly realized that he was required to know._

" _I-It's not much," Bertolt admitted, "just someone who has dirt on someone in the, uh...Justice Department."_

" _That's awfully vague," Levi warned._

" _It may just be a waste of time…" Bertolt stammered, "b-but i'd like to check it out j...just in case…"_

 _His boss narrowed his eyes at him, making the tall brunette sweat nervously._

" _...I guess i'll allow it," Levi answered at last, "you better have a backup if this leads nowhere. Now get to work."_

" _Y-yes sir," Bertolt replied, nodding as he turned around and did just that._

That was almost a week ago.

He was tempted to just ignore it, but he still took some time away from work to make it seem like he was working on an assignment to simply think about it-however his conversation with Armin earlier today tempted him to the point of driving all the way down to the hospital itself. That blonde demon was all everyone cared about these days, and it was grating on each and _every single one_ of his nerves.

"I should've killed him back then…" he muttered, letting out a defeated sigh as he read the note again.

" _Let's make a deal - Dr. E. S."_

"A deal, huh…?" the tall brunette mused, shoving the note in his pocket and stepping out of his car. "A deal with the devil...how fitting."


	15. Pure Imagination

" _I-Is that…?"_

 _The brunette gasped as he hit the brakes, screeching to a stop right in front of a frighteningly familiar blonde boy that stood right in the middle of the rural road leading home. There was nothing around for miles except grass and farmland—no houses, stores or gas stations._

… _or witnesses._

 _He was late getting on his way to work this morning and had to do overtime as a result, which landed him in the middle of nowhere late at night when he had come face to face with one of his worst fears—to make matters worse, he was already covered in a sickening amount of blood, making the brunette cringe behind the wheel._

 _Run him over, a dark voice in his mind said, he can't hurt her if he's dead._

 _Instead, he rolled down the window in a moment of sheer stupidity and timidly called out, "H-hey!"_

 _The blonde turned towards him, his head down as bright, feral eyes bore into fearful, timid ones._

" _H…hey…" the brunette said again, "You…you shouldn't…be out in the middle of the road…"_

Just run him over, _his mind said again,_ **kill** him _._

 _The blonde looked up at him, cocking his head to the side as he smiled in such a twisted but sweet way, making the brunette jump._

" _Kill me," he whispered, "I know that look in your eyes. You want to."_

 _The brunette gripped the steering will until his knuckles turned white._ _ **Kill him.**_

 _Armin then started meandering towards the car, causing the brunette to rev the engine in warning._

" _Why do you hesitate?" the blonde purred as he wandered closer, "You need to let go of your self control…like I did."_

 _The thought of being compared to_ _ **that**_ _made the brunette's stomach churn. "I-I'm not a murderous psychopath l-li-ike you," he stammered, "S-stay back! I'm warning you!"_

" _Don't warn me," Armin murmured, coming to a stop at the front of the car. "Just do it._ _ **Kill**_ _me."_

 _The brunette grit his teeth and closed his eyes. "Go away."_

" _Make me," the blonde taunted, "I'm going to haunt you until my blood stains your hands..."_

 _He had begun to giggle childishly, and the brunette lifted his foot off the brake and lifted it over the gas. "D...don't test me…"_

 _Before the blonde was able to respond, headlights blinded his vision as another car zoomed down the opposite side of the road. It must have seen Armin because it slowed to a stop and the driver—a young looking woman with orange, shoulder length hair—stepped out of her car._

" _H-hey…" she asked cautiously, "Do…you need…help…?"_

 _Realization dawned on her as her eyes widened in fear. "Y-you're—you're—"_

 _She didn't have a chance to finish her sentence as the blonde lunged at her, teeth bared like a feral animal as he took her down to the unforgiving asphalt._

 _The next thing the brunette knew he had floored the gas and sped off into the night, refusing to so much as glance into his rearview mirror as Armin's sadistic laughter followed him all the way home._

* * *

"Mr. Hoover," Dr. Smith greeted, "I assure you this is not at all what this looks like."

All Bertholdt could do was stare in shock as the blonde doctor wiped his bloody hands on his white coat, affectionately nudging the dead woman's body on the ground with his foot. "She threatened me, and I had to defend myself, you see?"

"...her eyeballs are missing…" Bertholdt stammered, "I-I feel like that's a bit... _overkill_?"

"I was annoyed."

 _And_ I _shouldn't have come here..._ Bertholdt thought resignedly. "If this is a bad time I can just-"

"Oh don't worry about it," Dr. Smith replied with a dismissive wave, "Tell you what, you help me clean this up and I'll answer any questions you have about Armin Arlert-that _is_ what you're here for, correct?"

 _That_ piqued his interest-he expected this to be about Armin, but he found himself feeling giddy anyway. "... _any_ questions?"

" _Every_ question," Dr. Smith corrected with a grin, "It's only fair, since you're technically complicit in a crime with me by being a witness-it'd be a shame to kill a promising individual as yourself as well."

Bertholdt flinched at the doctor's smile as a giggle whispered in the back of his mind.

"...okay," the brunette replied, deciding to ignore his not-so-veiled threat. "What do you need me to do?"

* * *

 _So this is what my life has come to…_ Bertholdt mused as he scrubbed the carpet to get the last of the bloodstains out. The cleanup was surprisingly easy, especially since Dr. Smith seemed to know what he was doing-which made him wonder how often the blonde had to either do this himself or make someone _else_ do it for him.

"That went better than I could have hoped," the doctor commented as he smiled down at Bertholdt in approval, "it's almost as if it never happened."

He shivered again, the hair on the back of his neck standing up as he heard that same childish laughter from before.

"That's...good, I guess…" the tall brunette murmured with a sigh, "now I've done everything you've told me."

"You have," Smith agreed, "here, lets dispose of the last of this and I'll answer the rest of your questions."

Bertholdt sighed again as he stood up, careful to not touch anything as he removed his soiled gloves and dropped them into a small bag that also contained a few spare extremities of the victim. "Right," he murmured, ignoring the aching in his hands and knees from cleaning for the past two hours. "Let's get this over with."

Dr. Smith smiled. "Oh, don't be like that," he said lightheartedly, "I find the process kind of fun-like a challenge of sorts."

 _You're just like him_ , a disgustingly familiar voice taunted, _you'd never be satisfied with just_ _ **killing**_ _me-you said so yourself, didn't you?"_

He glanced down at the now spotless floor where Armin laid beaten and bloody, his laughter making the brunette want to cover his ears and scream. "You need a new hobby," he muttered, gritting his teeth.

"I disagree," Dr. Smith replied, "People die all the time, so what does it matter if I'm the one that kills them? Everything returns to nothing, so really there's really no point in getting upset about it."

Bertholdt snorted at how childish that sounded. "Armin's excuse certainly seems more refined," he muttered, "what with the talk about human nature and doing it 'because he can't' or something."

 _As if that's not_ _ **your**_ _reason to kill me,_ Armin mused as he sat up and drew his knees into his chest, looking up at Bertholdt with deceptively innocent blue eyes. _You said you wanted my pain and regrets...you want to kill me the second I decide I want to live, don't you?_

"Well he _has_ always been one to overthink things," Dr. Smith pointed out, regaining Bertholdt's attention. "Come, let's go-we're taking your car, by the way."

Ignoring the blonde boy sitting out on the ground, Bertholdt followed Dr. Smith out of his office. "Oh yeah," he sighed, taking the keys out of his pocket and unlocking it. "Wouldn't want _your_ license plate seen, would you?"

"Oh I don't have a car," Dr. Smith answered with a chuckle, "I take the train and walk the rest of the way"

"...oh."

The two of them fell quiet as Bertholdt pulled out of the parking lot, heading towards the same patch of nowhere Dr. Smith described to him while cleaning. He knew it quite well, as he passes by that same stretch every day on his way to work.

It's also when he first met Armin Arlert before this whole mess started.

"I'm surprised, really," Dr. Smith said at last with a smirk, "from what I've read you seem like a normal man, what with all of those 'top ten' articles about inane things you tend to _write-'Top Ten KitKat Flavors'_ is perhaps my favorite."

Bertholdt glanced into the side window, briefly catching a glimpse of a passing billboard for Reese's peanut butter cups.

"I've been branching out lately," he stated curtly, "I was actually thinking about getting into politics-there's always something wrong when it comes to that."

"Now that's just pathetic," Dr. Smith chided playfully, "Politics are much too easy to get upset over."

Bertholdt stared at the blonde doctor out of the corner of his eye. There was something that seemed almost... _immature_ about him, at least compared to Armin. The latter had managed to twist him completely, turning him into a bloodthirsty mess at the mere thought of killing him-however Dr. Smith at the most made him feel uncomfortable with his attempts to sound like a sophisticated Bond villain despite his childish worldview.

 _I'm your favorite?_ Armin mused with a grin, causing the brunette glance at him in the rearview mirror. _I'm flattered._

Bertholdt snorted in response. "As if."

"It's true," the blonde doctor replied, assuming the comment was for him."With all the intense tribalism that's seeped into politics today, the only crime one must commit to be executed by public opinion is to fly the wrong colors."

 _I never cared for politics_ , Armin commented, _but that's because I'm a wanted criminal._

"I figured you'd say that," Bertholdt sighed, "but I'm better than them."

"I'm sure you are," Dr. Smith agreed as he leaned back in his seat, "but enough about that-what do you want to know?"

"About...Armin?" the brunette asked warily, "We haven't even got rid of the body yet."

"We're pretty much done anyway," the doctor answered, "so yes, I'll answer any questions about _him._ "

Billions of questions swirled in Bertholdt's head- " _why does he kill?" "what made him the way he is?"_

 _What makes you want to kill me so badly?_ Armin whispered in his ear, a pair of arms gently wrapping around his neck making the brunette gulp. _What is it about me that drives you absolutely_ _ **insane**_ _?_

"...who is he to you?" he decided, loudly clearing his throat. "I mean, why do you still insist keeping him there after-"

"-after he's gotten out so many times?" Dr. Smith asked, chuckling softly. "Well he's like me-he needs to be let out to play, doesn't he?"

The tall brunette's eyes turned into saucers as he began to sweat nervously. "Wait," he stammered, "y-you mean you-"

"-did it on purpose, yes," the doctor answered, his glasses tinting dangerously. "This last time I was severely injured and lost quite a bit of blood, but that was a price I was willing to pay."

 _What price would_ _ **you**_ _pay?_ The blonde boy mused, his grip tightening. _Annie's happiness? Her trust?_

"W-w-what if he _had_ killed you?" Bertholdt demanded, "What about all the deaths he's caused because-because _you_ -"

"Irrelevant, all of it," Dr. Smith sighed with a dismissive wave, "If I die then I die, if others die then they die. Death is of no consequence to me."

 _The only thing stopping you from killing me is yourself._

Bertholdt felt his hands tighten on the steering wheel as he clenched his jaw. "So it shouldn't be of any consequence if I killed him then, right?"

Dr. Smith seemed to freeze at his words, eyes concealed by the light reflecting on his glasses.

 _That's right,_ Armin purred, his hair tickling the back of Bertholdt's neck as he giggled quietly, _just let go of that petty conscience of yours and_ _ **destroy me**_ _._

"You're a liar, just like him," Bertholdt spat venomously, "Acting like you're invincible murderers, but that's not the case, is it?"

Dr. Smith didn't respond, only staring at Bertholdt with an unreadable expression.

"I saw him kill someone, you know," he continued, letting out a breathless laugh as Armin's grip began to choke him. "The very first time Eren convinced him to escape he truly didn't give a damn, but now…"

 _You've latched yourself onto Annie like a parasite,_ he seethed mentally, _all of a sudden acting human…what a_ _ **joke**_ _._

 _It is, isn't it?_ Armin agreed, _My entire existence is nothing but a stupid joke-one that_ _ **you**_ _came up with._

Without thinking Bertholdt suddenly slammed on the brakes, watching as Armin flew through the windshield and into nothing.

Taking a deep breath the brunette attempted to recollect his thoughts, throat sore and hands shaking as he remembered that he had another passenger with him.

"I-I'm _so_ sorry!" Bertholdt exclaimed, "A-Are you okay?! I-I-I don't know what came over me-!"

"I'm fine," Dr. Smith answered with a chuckle, "Gave me a bit of a scare though."

"I'm sorry…" the brunette repeated, "I-It won't happen again."

"No worries, we're here anyway," the blonde assured him, "And you merely proved me right."

"Proved… _what_ right?" Bertholdt questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.

"You…" Dr. Smith murmured, "I've had many people threaten my Armin over the years, but you...I like _you_."

Bertholdt was taken aback by the statement. "W-what?"

"You seem like you have more going for you than plain vengeance or revenge-it's a different type of obsession that I see in your eyes," Dr. Smith explained, a grin spreading across his face. "You may have some vendetta against him, but...you just want him to suffer just to _suffer_ , don't you?"

"I-no, that's not it!" Bertoldt protested, "I-I have someone I-"

"-want to protect someone, of _course_ ," Dr. Smith drawled, "stop lying to yourself, Mr. Hoover-you'd tear his throat out with your damn _teeth_ if you could."

 _I'm going to haunt you until my blood stains your hands..._

Bertholdt looked down at his hands, letting out a shaky breath. "...and if you're right?" he murmured, "What made you want to contact me in the first place?"

This time the blonde doctor laughed out loud. "Because you are quite the interesting person, Mr. Hoover," he commented, his grin turning sadistic. "Let's make a deal."

* * *

"That...is a lot of shit," Jean said once they were through.

"Yep," Marco muttered, sighing as he laid his head on the two-toned brunette's shoulder. "I'm _so_ glad you're back."

"Same, I guess," Annie said, "but what are we going to do now? Give joint custody to his mother or something?"

Jean snorted as Marco sighed. "She's right," the freckled brunette murmured morosely, "I just can't see an end to this…"

"And there's still Amber," she continued, putting Marco on edge. "We never caught her-"

"Amber can get herself killed for all I care," he seethed, "She just makes everything too complicated."

"Uh, about that," Jean said as he stared at his phone, "she's already dead…"

"We told you, Armin's grandfather faked it remember?" Annie sighed, "According to the world she's been dead for almost a decade."

"Then why is was this article written just today?" Jean countered, "'Woman's body resurfaces years after initial death-Remains of a woman identified as Amber Arlert found in Trost has been a source of ever growing confusion and mystery haunting the Arlert family, most notably known for Armin Arlert, serial killer at large known for hundreds of deaths all across Paradis-"

"She- _what?!_ " Annie exclaimed, "Shit, it must have happened when she went to the mental hospital! What the hell happened?!"

"...something tells me it was that Dr. Smith," Marco admitted, "He's been suspicious from the start…"

"That's not all," Jean continued, "Look at who wrote it."

He flashed the screen in Marco's face, making his eyes widen into saucers. "No way…" he stammered, "B...Bertholdt Hoover?!"


	16. Why

Eren found himself bewildered by the scene before him.

Mikasa had scooted her chair up to the bed, her head resting by a lump under the covers that Eren assumed was Armin. There was a notepad in her hands that lied open by her hands, and one sentence stood out to him the most.

 _I wasn't able to cry, so I laughed instead._

It wasn't his sister's handwriting, so he immediately knew that it was Armin's. "What the hell…?" he murmured, looking from the notepad to Mikasa, then to the lump.

 _You don't know me, so don't you fucking_ _ **dare**_ _act like you do._

If that notebook has what he thinks it has in it, then that means Armin is actually starting to open up to people again-it was immense progress, especially considering that he's opening up to _Mikasa_ of all people.

 _But...towards_ _ **what**_ _?_

Eren's smile faded as his thoughts turned south. _Is this really okay?_ He asked himself, slowly making his way to the bed and gently sitting next to his sister. _How long can this last?_

Almost as if on instinct Mikasa stirred, shifting her head so that it nuzzled against Eren's thigh. "Eren…" she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips. "...I missed you…"

"...I missed you too…" he replied quietly, running a hand through her soft, black hair. "I see shit's also hit the fan as well since I've been gone."

"...About that…" Mikasa trailed off, patting around and finding the notepad Eren had spotted earlier. "I suggest you read this."

"I glanced at it earlier…" he murmured, staring at it warily. "Is it what I think it is?"

Mikasa nodded, setting the notebook down on Eren's lap. "After I...well, the last time I was in the hospital, Armin had found me."

Eren raised an eyebrow, a familiar feeling of suspicion flickering in his chest. "...what did he do?"

Mikasa sighed, closing her eyes. "He wanted to know _why_ I did it Eren," she whispered, "He...he asked why I was so attached to you...and said he wanted to see if killing his grandfather was justified or not."

She suddenly let out a shaky breath to calm herself, so Eren continued to run a hand through her hair. "So he was trying to forgive you?"

Mikasa snorted, shaking her head. "He said he would never forgive me for as long as I live," she muttered, "but...he said we were alike."

"You're not a serial killer though," Eren chuckled, rolling his eyes, "In all honesty though, he kinda has a point."

Mikasa lifted her head at that, raising an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Well you both had kinda shit childhoods," Eren explained, moving his hand as she sat up. "I mean, almost being kidnapped isn't exactly a family fun vacation. You were probably one traumatic experience away from going crazy yourself-luckily I too am a psychopath and saved you, am I right?"

He had meant the last part to be a joke, but Mikasa averted her gaze.

"...you're right…" she murmured, "Armin said that...he pushed everyone away, while I had you to lean on for support-and that's why we turned out so differently."

As much as it pained him to admit it, Eren knew he was right-Mikasa wouldn't have snapped if Armin hadn't come after Eren, leading Armin to snap after she killed his grandfather in retaliation. He loved his sister, but he couldn't deny how similar they acted during that whole ordeal.

"Well I'm here now, I guess," he sighed, picking up the notebook and flipping absentmindedly through the pages. "Maybe we can find some sort of normalcy in this…"

Eren trailed off, not exactly sure what _this_ was.

"...I miss you, you know," he whispered, "I can't cook for shit and I have no one to nag me at home so it's always so quiet…"

He felt his eyes sting with tears, but he manned through it. "I kinda miss how things were, but...I don't know."

Eren felt something soft land on his lap and saw Mikasa curl into him. "I...miss you too…" she murmured, her voice shaky.

The last thing Eren wanted to say was that "everything will be okay" because from his experience that was taken as a challenge to the universe to see how fucked up things could get.

Letting out a sigh he resumed running his fingers through Mikasa's hair, feeling her breath deepen as he picked up the notebook again.

"Alright Armin Arlert," he muttered, opening it up to the first page. "Just why do you ignore your conscious?"

* * *

"Eren."

Eren stirred, brushing away whatever was tickling his face. "Mhmn...?"

"Eren…"

The sensation came back, prompting to pry open his eyes in irritation-only to find himself staring into a pair of troubled, baby blue eyes.

"A-Armin?!" he yelped, finally jerking awake. Mikasa was nowhere to be found, which made the brunette uneasy. He had read through the entire notebook like she'd had asked, and now Eren realized he didn't know how to broach the subject with the blonde.

It turned out he didn't have to. "I...wanted to talk to you," he murmured, putting a strand of hair behind his ear (which Eren belatedly realised was tickling his face earlier). "I...I'm not going to stay here much longer."

Eren blinked, not understanding. "W-what do you-?"

"Face it Eren," the blonde interrupted sternly, "how long can this go on? It's only a matter of time before I'm discovered-and I don't want to bring Annie and Reiner down with me."

The brunette noticed that he had left out Bertholdt, but decided not to comment. "But what are you gonna do?" he demanded, "Turn yourself in? There's no way I'm letting you go back _there_ -"

"I'm not," Armin snapped, his hands tightening into fists. "I _refuse_ to go back down there—I _**won't**_."

A silence fell between them, thick and suffocating as Eren studied the now shaking blonde. He hadn't really changed much; his hair was disheveled and his downcast eyes were full of exhaustion as he stared down his hands, trying to put together his thoughts.

"It's just...you want Mikasa to go back to living with you, right?" Armin murmured, "I...I took her as a hostage, so I can spin it to sound like-"

"But you _didn't_ take her as a hostage," Eren pointed out, "you _saved_ her-"

"She put _herself_ in there Eren."

The brunette's eyes eyes widened in shock. "Y-you're wrong," he murmured, "She-it was court mandated, she said-"

"Dr. Smith told me everything," Armin interrupted, "H-he convinced her to admit herself I bet-he's always been _really_ creepy like that…that's why I took-er, _rescued_ her, I guess."

Eren shook his head, running a hand through his head as he attempted to process Armin's words. "...Armin…" he murmured, "...just what made you escape?"

"I think...he knows I'm here," Armin admitted quietly, "And I don't want to risk him destroying everyone's lives...like I did."

"But then what about _you_?" Eren demanded, feeling his voice rising "Are you just gonna live out your life as a fugitive?!"

"You mean like I am _now_?" Armin asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's not like I have much of a choice."

The blonde looked down at his hands, which Eren noticed with concern were shaking from how tight his fist was. "Everyone I've tried to care about has either gotten hurt or turned on me…" he muttered, "Hell even _you_ hated me and Annie was almost stabbed to death, and if I'm not careful…"

A shadow passed over his face, which unnerved the brunette. "I've got to end this _somehow_ Eren."

" _No_ ," Eren protested instantly, "I'm not going to let you-"

"Not like _that_ ," Armin interrupted, hastily snapping his gaze back to the brunette. "I mean…haven't I fucked up your life enough?"

Eren couldn't deny that his life has gone off a cliff, but it wasn't _that_ bad...anymore. "You _did_ fuck up our lives quite a bit," Eren agreed, "But sacrificing yourself-"

"I'm not sacrificing shit," the blonde deadpanned, "I'm going to _kill_ him, Eren."

 _Ah._ Eren almost forgot who he was talking to for a moment. "That sounds more like you…" he sighed, "but there's still no telling of what'll come _after_ that."

"There's no telling what'll come in the next five minutes while I'm here," Armin pointed out, "Any _second_ an officer can break down the door and arrest every person in this house-including Mikasa."

Eren grit his teeth, the thought of Mikasa going to prison over something almost completely out of her control making his blood boil. "...You're right," he murmured, "I just...have a bad feeling about this, is all."

"You should," the blonde agreed, "to be honest it'd be easier on me to just kill myself, but you guys have put too much effort in keeping me alive for me to do that-it just wouldn't be fair."

"While I appreciate the thought," Eren sighed, "I don't think killing Dr. Smith will really _help_ …"

"Of course it will," Armin scoffed matter of factly, "Think about it, I can't be the _only_ person he's been creepy around-the Survey Corps Mental Hospital isn't exactly known for treating their patients with _care_ if you know what I mean."

Eren studied the blonde's face, shocked by the determination in his eyes. "He also put my mom through hell as well," he continued, "Who knows who else's life he's fucking with just for the hell of it? He probably thinks he's in my head and I wouldn't be able to kill him, so it'll be all the more rewarding."

 _You kill because you can?_

 _No, I kill because I_ _ **can't**_ _._

Eren found himself rolling his eyes. "You...haven't changed at all."

Armin blinked, cocking his head to the side. "What do you mean by that?"

 _Might as well mention it now..._ Eren sighed as he revealed the notebook, gauging the blonde's reaction. "Mikasa gave me this," he explained, "and I think I get it now."

 _You don't know me, so don't you_ _ **fucking**_ _dare act like you do._

Armin's eyes were wary but lacking surprise, so Eren guessed he hadn't overstepped his boundaries yet. "When we first met, you seemed to be proving a point every time you killed someone," he continued, "Just like you are with Dr. Smith-that their lives didn't matter to you, right?"

"It's...not that they _don't_ matter," Armin murmured, "It was because they _did_ matter-there was something about taking a person that's probably important to someone else and _destroying_ -"

He stopped suddenly, eyes wide and haunted as his hands began to shake again.

"...like that _bitch_ did to me," he whispered hoarsely, "It wasn't even for the fact that my mom died, but because I was my _mom's_ son...she probably would've done it if she was alive…"

When Armin began to giggle quietly to himself Eren decided that he had gone far enough. "Forget I said anything," the brunette hastily replied, grabbing the blonde's hands to calm him down. "You must be hungry anyway-I'll see if Jean can make you some food."

"Jean…?" Armin murmured, "Oh yeah…almost forgot about him…"

He seemed to be dozing off again, and Eren lightly tapped his cheeks. "Cmon, get up," he insisted, hoisting the surprisingly light blonde up from the bed. "You've slept enough."

Instead of standing up on his own two feet like a grown adult, Armin stubbornly wrapped his legs around his waist and held tight. "I refuse."

"Oh my-are you serious?!" Eren demanded, attempting to pry the man-baby off of him to no avail. "Fine, I'll just _carry_ you out."

He managed to make it to the door when Armin suddenly reached out a hand and grabbed the doorframe, hampering Eren's progress.

"Dammit-" Eren grunted as he forced himself forward, however Armin's grip was like iron. "You big baby! Let go!"

He had the nerve to giggle in his ear, making shivers rush up his spine. "No."

Letting out a sigh, Eren slowly but surely pried his hands away from the doorframe. "Alright," he huffed, "Out we go!"

He walked to the living room, Armin still clinging to him when Annie finally spoke up. "What the hell is going on?"

Eren sighed in exasperation, turning to the three people sitting on the couch. "This giant baby won't let me _go_!"

"You should've just let me sleep," Armin mumbled, "So we wouldn't be here right now."

"Just get _off_ of me!"

"I refuse."

Annie wordlessly stood up and stalked behind Eren, her fingers wiggling dangerously as a deadly aura surrounded her.

"Annie," Armin warned, "Annie don't you _dare_ - _ANNIE-_!"

All of a sudden Armin jerked violently, latching on even tighter to Eren while letting out a squeal. "S-stop-Annie- _AHAHAHA-_!"

Eren was finally released as Armin thumped to the ground, Annie finally letting up from her tickling. "There you go," she stated, crossing her arms with a small smirk.

"I hate you," Armin whined from the ground.

Mikasa poked her head out from the kitchen, eyebrow raised. "What was that?"

"Armin's acting like a little shit," Eren whined, "Quick, distract him with food."

"Well I _am_ making beef stir fry," she said, turning to the blonde still lying on the ground. "You want any?"

"He's vegetarian," Jean stated, "Make a batch without any meat."

Mikasa hummed, glancing back into the kitchen. "Well it's a frozen pack with meat already in it...I'll try to pick them out I guess?"

"Thanks…" Armin mumbled, finally sitting up. "I'm not one of those psychos who complain about 'tainted' food."

"Why _are_ you vegetarian?" Eren asked as Mikasa disappeared back into the kitchen, "I mean, you look like you can use some meat…"

Armin shrugged, drawing his knees into his chest. "Human meat really messed me up," he answered, "Hanji said going vegetarian would help cope."

Eren's eyes widened, not sure if he's joking or not. "I...remember the cannibalism from your file," he murmured, "I...guess that makes sense…"

"You still haven't tried it cooked, have you?" Annie joked, plopping back down onto the couch with a sigh. "Maybe cooked meat will help."

"I don't think so," Armin stated resolutely, "Hanji tried sneaking some chicken in some fried rice one time and I had a mental break down-and I've had enough of those for one day."

"Fair point."

Suddenly the door opened, revealing an exhausted-looking Bertholdt.

"Well _you_ sure were out late," Annie commented, "Did Levi-"

"Armin," he interrupted, making the blonde straighten up at the sound of his name. "We need to talk."

"Bertholdt…" Marco warned, rising up from the couch.

"Don't worry," Armin smiled, "I doubt it's that important. Let's go Bertholdt."

Eren stared in confusion as the two disappeared into the guest room, the door clicking softly behind them. He glanced at Marco and grimaced at the uncharacteristically dark look on his face.

 _I guess I'm still not quite in the loop yet…_ he thought, letting out an exhausted sigh.

"Eren," his sister called, grabbing his attention. "Come help me sort out this beef."

"Uh-yeah, sure…" he murmured as he walked into the kitchen, trying to ignore the pit of unease forming in his gut.

* * *

"You're not gonna just kill me _now_ , are you?" Armin joked as Bertholdt closed the door behind them. "I thought we had a-"

"I'm sorry," the brunette blurted, "Forget about the deal-I need your help."

The blonde's face darkened instantly with suspicion. "What did you do?"

Bertholdt was quiet, debating how to explain his predicament without being flayed alive. He doubted Armin was too fond of Dr. Smith, and he was certain he was even less so with the brunette himself-so he had to tread carefully. "You know Dr. Smith, right?"

Forget about treading carefully, Armin's face told him he just stepped on a landmine.

"What. Did. You. Do?" he repeated with a growl, his eyes glinting with an all too familiar edge.

 _No going back now, is there?_ Bertholdt thought morosely, gathering the courage to speak. "He contacted me first-"

Armin cut him off by grabbing the brunette by his tie, the other hand tightening it around his throat. "So help me Bertholdt if the next three words out of your mouth aren't 'he knows nothing' they're going to be "please have mercy"—which I have absolutely _none_ of, am I clear?"

This was going about as well as Bertholdt expected it to, so he forced himself to respond despite the lack of airflow. "I'm...sorry…" he choked out, "I...made...a...mistake…"

Suddenly Bertholdt's legs were swept from underneath him and was faced with blazing blue eyes, sending a course of terror through his body. "You 'made a _mistake_ '?" he asked, his voice dangerously calm as the tips of his hair tickled the brunette's face. "You've possibly just killed Annie is what you did."

Bertholdt's eyes widened at the threat, however when he reached for Armin's neck he choked him harder with his tie. "You don't know that psycho like I do," he continued, "Despite popular opinion I actually have a regard for human life, unlike Erwin-I also care about Annie, and since he'll want to get to me through my so-called 'friends' you can guess who'll be first on his list to fuck with, right?"

 _Shit_. Bertholdt had already taken that into consideration, but he realized that Armin probably believes that Dr. Smith will go back on his promise.

 _If I die then I die, if others die then they die. Death is of no consequence to me._

Right now death was quite a big issue with Bertholdt as his vision became blurry and his struggling became weaker. "H...elp...please…"

"Didn't you hear what I said earlier?" Armin asked innocently, a grin spreading across his face as his grip tightened even more. " _Beg_ me to stop, Bertholdt."

"P...please...I...I'm...sorry…" Bertholdt whispered, the panic and lack of air making his eyes tear up and body spasm. "S...s...stop…I...I'm...dying..."

The blonde still didn't let up as he leaned in close, his hair gently caressing his face as he giggled in his ear. "Keep begging," he whispered, his voice shaky and breath uneven. "Please please _please_ keep begging me to stop…"

"I…'ll...do an...yth...ing…" the brunette choked, feeling his tearful eyes roll back into his head causing black spots to fill his vision. "I...I'...m...d...y...in...g…"

All he could see were Armin's bright blue eyes, burning with the punishing fires of hell as his consciousness reached his limit. He was dully aware of his legs flailing wildly in desperation, not fazing the demon pinning him down in the slightest as it's innocent laughter echoed in his head. Something deep in his head screamed at him to push him away, that he was bigger and stronger than him-but it was drowned out by both his attempts to scream for mercy and that awful _awful_ _**laughter**_ -

-and suddenly he was able to breathe again as Armin let go of his tie and stood up, enabling the brunette to roll over and gasp for breath in between sobs. "I-'m s...s-sorry…" he gasped, "I-I'll...I'll m-m-make it right...I'm sorry…"

There was no response as Bertholdt attempted to pull himself together, his throat burning as he sat up and forced himself to take deep breaths. Armin was facing away from him, hiding his expression-however the brunette saw how his hands shook, probably itching to tear him to pieces.

"Hey, Bertholdt…" Armin murmured, not turning around, "Why do you think you want to kill me so badly?"

 _Quite the question to ask after almost killing me yourself just now_ , Bertholdt thought indignantly. "You mean besides Annie?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "You irritate me."

"Understandable," he laughed, the sound bitter and grating onte brunette's ears. "But…what _emotion_ do you feel when you want to kill me?"

"Huh?" Bertholdt demanded, not exactly sure what he meant. "I'd say jealousy-the way everyone's lives suddenly revolve around you is seriously annoying."

Armin laughed out loud again, making Bertholdt clench his teeth in irritation. "You just _relish_ being the center of attention, _don't you_?" he grit out, "You've basically ruined my life-ruined _me_."

"That's not the point," Armin answered dismissively, "Jealousy isn't an emotion, it's a feeling. I asked what _emotion_ you felt."

The brunette felt like his head was going to explode from these mind games-but his throat was also still sore from being choked out, so he decided to swallow what was left of his pride and go along with it. "A-aren't those synonyms?"

"Not in the realm of psychology and neuroscience they aren't," Armin answered, still refusing to face him. "Emotions are primal responses to stimuli-happiness, sadness, anger, the like. It's a simple, quantifiable state your brain is physically in-it's pretty straightforward."

Bertholdt was quiet for a moment, not quite understanding. "So...like grief?"

"Nope," Armin replied, letting out a chuckle. "That's a _feeling_ , a complex interpretation of the reason for your brain's emotional state-for example, one can be _sad_ due to grief, but one can be _angry_ due to grief. _Or_ one can be sad due to something entirely different-it all depends on _context_."

The blonde finally turned back towards Bertholdt, the fire in his eyes replaced by a dull exhaustion. "You're afraid of me, aren't you?"

Bertholdt was quiet, debating how to respond. Armin was right of course-the only reason that he managed to slit his throat was because he literally held his neck open and asked him to. By contrast, the brunette was helpless when he was being strangled despite being much bigger-and by default much stronger.

"Fear...that's an emotion, isn't it?" Bertholdt said finally, keeping his thoughts to himself. "Every living thing feels fear, right?"

"Hmm…"Armin hummed sitting down on the bed as he cocked his head to the side. "Fear is...special. It's usually an interpretation of emotions-one can be angry due to fear, or sad. But-as you said-every living thing feels it. It's also a primal emotion, a visceral reaction towards something that might impede our survival, correct?"

Bertholdt certainly felt the blonde would impede on his survival at any given moment. "So...it's both?"

Armin nodded, standing back up and kneeling down next to Bertholdt. "What are your emotions right now?"

"...is being annoyed an emotion?" Bertholdt joked blandly, a hand subconsciously reaching up to hold his sore neck. "I guess the most basic one would be ang-"

He froze mid sentence as Armin lightly caressed his throat, his hand resting on his adam's apple. "Wrong," he stated, a smile forming as he leaned in close and whispered in his ear. "You feel fear."

Bertholdt suddenly found it impossible to breathe again, as if the blonde had resumed strangling him with his feather-like touch. "W-wait-I-I'm sorry! S-s-stop...please…"

His head became lightheaded as he clawed at his neck, his eyes starting to roll to the back of his head as his throat seized up . "I...I don't...wanna...die…"

Armin suddenly removed his hand, and Bertholdt forced himself to take deep breaths. "This isn't about Annie, you see?" the blonde murmured, "You're just afraid for your own life."

The brunette coughed, not meeting Armin's eyes. "So I'm a _coward_ is what you're saying?"

"Of course not," Armin replied dismissively, getting back up and returning to the bed. "Even _I_ was afraid of death. It's a natural, human feeling."

"Right, you've told me that before," Bertholdt snorted as he glanced at the bandage around Armin's own neck, almost laughing out loud at the irony. "Was this whole thing payback for the kitchen thing?"

"...a little," he admitted sheepishly, only for his expression to harden again. "But you _really_ fucked everyone over talking to Erwin. What the hell were you thinking?"

That was a good question. "He sensed my fear," he muttered, "I've gotten desperate."

"Have you now?" Armin questioned, that demonic edge returning to his eyes as his smile slipped into a grin. "And why haven't you just killed me yet?"

 _I'm going to haunt you until my blood stains your hands._

Bertholdt clenched his jaw as he shot out a hand and latched on to Armin's throat, his eyes bulging with something Bertholdt never saw in the blonde's eyes.

It was _fear_.

The brunette let out a crazed laugh as his grip tightened, feeling crimson blossom from under the bandage. "You think _I'm_ afraid?!" he half shouted, "You should see the look on your face _right_ -"

A finger lightly grazed his neck and suddenly he couldn't breathe, couldn't think as his grip tightened on the blonde's neck in a frenzied attempt to breathe himself-only to realize that the fear in the blonde's eyes was gone, replaced with that same, haughty sadism that was always _always_ _ **always**_ there.

Bertholdt loosened his grip as he fell back unceremoniously onto the floor, gritting his teeth in barely restrained anger. "It's not fair…" he growled, "It's just...it's just not _fair_! Why aren't you scared?! Why don't you fear death?! Why are you _always there?!_ "

"You...startled me," Armin murmured, choking out a laugh as he held his bleeding neck. "That has to count...for _something..._ right?"

 _Startled_? That wasn't even _near_ close enough for the brunette-he wanted him to _scream_ for help, to regret existing, for everything to just _go back to the way it was_ -!

"I know, I know," the blonde replied condescendingly, "But you just ruined any chance of that by talking to Erwin."

Suddenly a hand yanked on his hair, forcing the now sobbing Bertholdt face to face with the devil's childish smile and burning blue eyes.

"Now _**you're**_ the one who has to live with that, aren't you?"


End file.
